#the bunker is a True Forms Allowed zone

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

This is so sweet

Imagine this:

It starts with Bobby John. Dean can't let the baby go, he reminds him too much of Sam, way back when Sam was this age, and Daddy was always sad (or drunk), and when Dean tried to speak the words got stuck, and he could not make a sound. He can't let the baby go, so he doesn't.

Over time, they gather more. Bobby John, Ben, Joe and Ryan, Emma, Alex, Krissy and Aiden and Josephine, Magda, Claire, Jack. They find Jesse again, 16 years old and alone and scared of himself. They find Charlie and Kevin, and even though they aren't quite their kids, they treat them with the same care.

Somewhere in between the always rising tide of children, they find the Bunker. It's perfect - dozens of rooms for everyone to spread out, to have their own space. Bobby doesn't die, but he does move to the bunker "To keep an eye on ya' idjits,”. The modifications they make to the Bunker for his wheelchair are worth it to see the pride in his eyes. Linda Tran moves in, and she and Dean have an ongoing war over who's in control of the kitchen.

Of course, things aren't perfect. Chuck is still a problem, and eventually he must be dealt with. They win, but the cost is heavy. Cas and Jack are gone, and Dean... well he's as good as gone. He never leaves his room anymore, except to get a drink. Their dysfunctional family is mourning, both for those who they've lost and for themselves. Disappearing and coming back is much more traumatic than you'd expect.

Eventually, in an attempt to cheer him up, they convince him to go on a hunt. Just a small thing, a nest of vamps. They've killed a man and mutilated his wife, as well as taken their kids, two small boys. Someone (later, no one will remember exactly who) jokes that they can take in the boys. Sam and Dean leave, looking more cheerful than they’ve been in weeks.

They get the call a few hours later. Sam tells them over the phone, barely understandable through his tears, that Dean was hurt in the fight and that the doctors aren’t sure if he’ll pull through. Using the variety of cars in the bunker, they break a handful of laws and probably the sound barrier on their way to the hospital. Bobby pulls Sam aside and he explains, in detail, what happened. They wait for hours before a doctor finally enters the waiting room, asking for the family of Dean Fletcher* (Millie Winchester’s maiden name).

Dean survives, barely. Recovery is an uphill battle, and the damage done to his spine, muscles, and nerves leave him wheelchair-bound and in near-constant pain. Eventually, he’s able to move around for short periods of time using forearm crutches and leg braces, but it’s only after a few years and a lot of physical therapy. At the very least, the Bunker needs no new changes to accommodate him, having been updated for Bobby ages ago.

A year passes. The two boys from the vamp hunt are moved into the Bunker after their mother succumbs to her injuries in the hospital, and quickly adjust and thrive in the new location. Sam and Eileen quit hunting, permanently. They move to town, only fifteen minutes away, and visit every Saturday for family dinner. When they get married, Sam Winchester becomes Sam Leahy. Jody retires, and moves her hoard to the Bunker. They’ve got the room, after all. Donna follows not too long after. Miracle is officially trained as a service animal, to help Dean with his panic attacks.

One night, Dean can’t sleep. He hauls himself into his wheelchair and goes to the kitchen for a glass of water. He stops at the sight of three people sitting at the table.

The reunion is a tearful one. Dean cries from relief, and guilt, and of course the burning pain that rips through his back as a result of him temporarily forgetting he can’t stand and launching himself out of his chair. Cas also cries, sobbing apologies into Dean’s hair from where they are curled on the floor. Jack, pressed between the two of them and both overwhelmed and overstimulated, can only beg for Dean’s forgiveness. His dads wipe away his tears and press kisses to his cheeks, assuring him that he has nothing to apologize for.

The only one who doesn’t cry is Adam, sitting slightly stony faced at the table. Later, once the commotion of the reunion has died and Sam has been woken and summoned to the Bunker, the three sit down to chat.

Adam tells them that he’s not angry anymore, and begs them to explain everything to him, starting from the beginning. He is especially curious about their father, and realizes through their stories that John badly mistreated them. Dean invites Adam to stay in the Bunker, but Adam declines. He says that there’s a lot he needs to do, but hesitantly suggests that they stay in touch. Their relationship is tentative at first, but eventually he becomes a permanent fixture in the family.

Cas and Jack are filled in on what they missed. Dean pulls them each aside and apologizes privately for the things he said and did before the end. He assures Jack that he is part of the family, and always will be. He tells him he’s willing to be Jack’s dad, if that’s what Jack wants. Jack enthusiastically agrees.

He can’t quite bring himself to say “I love you” to Cas, but he says something along the lines of “maybe one day.” He also implies to Cas that John was extremely homophobic, and the combination of that and the sexual trauma he has experienced through his life (getting money for food/rent as a teen, Hell, Lydia) makes him hesitant now to form romantic relationships. Cas, understanding as always, agrees and comments on how he has improved at opening up, to which Dean replies that there wasn’t much else to do when he was trapped in bed and couldn’t escape Sam and his relentless therapy-talks.

Jack tells them as a group that he has decided there doesn’t need to be a God, and has stepped down after reforming Heaven. He says that he used his power for the last time to bring back Castile and find Adam. He confesses to his parents that the power is not gone, and likely never will be. He also says that he would like to grow up as human as possible, and promptly shrinks to the size of a toddler, much to the bewildered amusement of his parents. They discover that he no longer has his memories, and Bobby suggests that they may come back when he’s older, and that forgetting is his young mind's way of protecting itself.

As time passes, Cas and Dean open the Bunker to other hunters as a research facility and safe space to stay for a few nights. Neither of them hunt anymore, but they offer support and badly needed organization. With Charlie and Kevin’s help, they set up a system like the one Sam originally had.

When Eileen and Sam announce they are expecting, Dean is ecstatic. When they reveal the baby is a boy and that they are naming him “Dean II”, he cries for a solid hour. He’s the first, outside of Sam and Eileen, to hold the baby, who he affectionately nicknames “Junior”.

In the end, they are happy. They live together peacefully.

Would anyone be interested in reading this on ao3? I miiiight be planning to write this… also any suggestions/question/concerns are welcome! Also, if I missed any kiddos (canon only, please), feel free to tell me! I’m perfectly open to expanding their hoard.

Also, I cannot take complete credit for this story. Quite a few elements are inspired by foolondahill17’s stories, Dean Winchester’s half-way house for orphaned half-monsters (and humans), and the miracles ‘verse by the same author. Both are absolutely amazing stories, and I highly recommend.

*According to the Supernatural Wiki, Adam Glass wanted the actress Louise Fletcher to play Millie Winchester should she appear on screen.

[mishastoesies]

layout of MY widower arc:

jack is born and he’s a baby. sam and dean walk into the nursery guns raised and they see a crying baby. dean moves first, puts his gun away and holds the baby and tries to get him to stop crying

dean calls the baby “cas jr.” while he’s trying to get jack to stop crying and sam is like [sam noise] dean his name is jack. look at the wall for two seconds

dean lets jack hold his pinkie, jack grabs it, and gives dean a little baby handprint scar around it. cue dean’s glib little “got a killer grip there, slugger” while he’s actively trying not to cry

dean carries jack in a sling while watching cas’ body burn. everything else about that scene remains the same. the yellow curtains were INSPIRED

when they get back to the bunker, dean pours all of his hard liquor down the drain. and when he’s done with that, he goes into the kitchen, grabs the wine he uses for cooking and the six packs of beer he keeps around and pours those down the sink too

 enter... the hell zone: dean has baby insomnia, grief nightmares where cas burns on the ceiling when he manages to sleep, hallucinates cas everywhere, and the withdrawal symptoms are VERY bad. shot of him crying for three seconds, taking a deep breath, and soldiering on

during ALL of this, sam is trying to be there for his brother but like... the monsters did not Stop just because dean acquired a baby. cue sam becoming the de-facto On Site Adult for the wayward sisters, especially alex who becomes sam jr., and also doing more witch stuff with rowena because yknow. dean’s busy with the kid he’s allowed to fuck around and he’s PRETTY sure he won’t have to do any finding out (spoiler: he does find out, but that’s a season 14 sam thing)

SPEAKING of the wayward sisters, dean has an epiphany during one of his more lucid moments and looks at jack’s makeshift nursery and is like “the bunker is... not a good place for a kid” so he takes himself to sioux falls and crashes with donna and jody for a few weeks before he can get him a Home

mary tries so hard to give him baby advice but it’s all terrible advice from the reagan era because yknow. thats where she’s from. “you don’t need a carseat, when you were jack’s age you slept on the floor of the impala” “by the time he’s two you can just drop him off at the park and let him play” “are you MAKING your own baby food? i did the same thing! i fed you and sam blitzed up pop tarts a couple of times!”

gabriel shows up early and nearly sends dean into Mystery Spot 2.0 because he’s convinced that dean knocked cas up. this is the first time we get confirmation of jack’s true form looking like cas. dean gets yelled at for a good 3 hours when he says “no no no, jacks not mine, he’s the antichrist” because thats gabriel’s NEPHEW how DARE he say that

when cas comes back, dean runs to him, spins him around, and kisses him on the lips. dean is weeping during this. cas is shocked, and pulls away, and this leads to: the awkward era. 

during the awkward era, cas is 100% in love with dean and dean is 100%  in love with cas, BUT they both don’t want the other one to make a “hasty decision” - cas thinks dean’s just emotional from having to be a single father for months on end and is latching onto him as a result of that, and dean thinks cas is only being nice to him because of jack and couldn’t possibly feel the same way as him

dean can go back out on cases now, and cas is relegated to stay-at-home parent because he wants time with jack. dean avoids them because he thinks that he’d be unwelcome and intruding on them. cas secretly wishes dean was with him the whole time. 

this continues until dean gets got by one of those offshoot-djinn that make you see worst nightmares instead of idyllic dreams. his worst nightmare, surprise, is cas dying again. dean and cas have their very emotional conversation in the middle of the night about this, dean says “i can’t do this without you”, cas says “i don’t want to do this without you,” cue emotional sex scene, and in the morning, they’re once again in-sync and acting like an old married couple, taking care of jack together and being a liddol fambily

while all of this has been happening sam has embroiled himself in witch politics, having become the leader of a growing reformist faction in the community that wants to reconcile with hunters and work to stop larger threats, and he’s pretty sure that rowena’s betraying him because she’s out for power and power alone, so he decides to fake his own death using rowena’s resurrection trick and some illusory magic (here we recast sam as ryan ross from panic! at the disco) to go undercover and see what she’s been saying 

(spoiler: she HAS been double-crossing him and readying for a hostile takeover with her own group. sam now needs allies, powerful ones too... who can he call on? that’s right. gabriel thee archangel. yes my version of season 13 ALSO has horrible sabriel bait! you’re welcome!) 

the angels’ plan to kidnap jack is 100% worse this time because they effectively want to take this very small baby and use him as a generator to keep heaven running. they don’t view jack as a person with potential, they view him as a battery. cas and dean are now on the run from heaven itself, and who can they call on to hide them? who left heaven after deciding the angels were just Not That Compelling? that’s right. chuck. 

chuck in THIS version has a soft spot for his grandson and takes them in, BUT they have to share a house with becky. becky loves the baby, and jack, who is now one year old, loves becky’s pet cat and becky’s three year old daughter. 

scene were dean and cas are lying in the guest bedroom of becky’s house and dean is like “i didnt want this for us. i wanted us to be normal” and cas is like “dean, i don’t want normal. i want you. i’d go anywhere for you, i thought you knew that” 

claire comes to visit them often, even when they’re at becky’s house. the first time claire visits is when dean is alone in the bunker with cas still dead, though, and after she punches dean in blind anger, she holds jack and is like “yknow, i always wanted a baby brother.” when she visits at becky’s house she brings cas a dean funko pop and is like “i got it at the hot topical :)” 

there’s so much more to this but this is like... the main part of it

[hawkland]

Dear Smut4Smut creator

Letter for the 2021 Smut 4 Smut exchange

My AO3 profile: sidewinder

Thank you for writing or creating art for me! I know I’ll be thrilled with whatever you come up with for any of my requests. (And if I babble on or have more prompts for one ship than another, don’t take that as any kind of preference. Some I just am more specific in the kinds of smutty scenarios I’m requesting/wanting at this time, but I love them all the same.)

Please consider the requested tags all the “prompt” you need if so inspired, if none of my suggested scenarios and ideas inspire you. Also, of course, feel free to combine them or use only one as you see fit! 

General Likes

Non-penetrative sex (especially in first-time scenarios). I love extended kissing scenes, frottage, mutual hand jobs, characters so turned on and overwhelmed that they come from barely being touched/before they can get all their clothes off, etc.

Romantic smut more than really kinky smut (though a bit of light bondage/restraint can be fun!)

That said, I have a definite weakness for wing!kink and tentacles... where appropriate :) 

Generally stoic/repressed/strong characters breaking down and needing comfort/hugs/acceptance of their vulnerabilities

Inverted relationship power dynamics - in the sense of a seemingly older and/or more powerful character actually being less experienced in sex/romantic relationships, or having more doubts & insecurities, and needing the younger/less powerful character to take the lead or reassure them.

In art - I really love all styles of fan art and just seeing how different artists interpret my favorite characters. Seriously, and that’s not just a cop-out because I’m crappy at coming up with art-specific prompts.

General Do No Wants

A/B/O dynamics, mating heats

animal abuse/death

anything related to pregnancy/childbirth

formalized BDSM relationships

non-canon gender identities and/or sexual orientations except gay/bi/pan for requested ships/characters 

scat/watersports

unrequested alternative-universe scenarios such as high school/genderswap/coffee shop/etc (however, canon-divergent AUs completely fine!)

Supernatural-Castiel/Dean Winchester

Fandom-specific Do Not Wants: Bad ending/unhappy-ever-after, Sam-bashing, any suggestions of Wincest

I confess I am a very new Destiel-shipper/SPN fan, having only gotten into the show late last year (post-finale.) So while I know there are mountains of stories already written about this ship, sometimes it’s nigh impossible to dig through it all to find stories that scratch the specific fic cravings I have. Hence all the prompts/ideas for them here, some of which I’m sure have been done to death already...but please humor me :)

Long Prolonged Make-Outs

Kissing All Over

Frottage

First Time Sex is Non-Penetrative 

First Time with Partner of the Same Gender

Experience - Experienced/Inexperienced

Experience - Experienced Partner Lets Inexperienced One Explore Them

Playful Sex

Morning After (Incredible Sex the night before)

I love everything about newly-human!Cas in season 9 (and Cas’s hedonistic tendencies in general). I have to imagine that, as a human, he just feels things with an intensity that angels just don’t feel, as if with human lifetimes so condensed, their senses are intensified to make up for it in a way that would be overwhelming for a hugely powerful/nearly immortal creature like an angel.

So give me any story about Cas’ exploring and fully embracing the sensual pleasures of sex (with Dean). I love Season 9 canon-divergence fics where Dean lets him stay in the bunker. Perhaps after his first taste of sex with April, Cas wants to add to his experiences by having sex with a male-bodied human/someone he deeply cares about (ie, DEAN). Dean may still be struggling with his own internalized homo/bi-phobia but it’s hard for him to resist Cas with his insatiable curiosity about how the human body works, having no filters/no taboos and just wanting to taste/touch/experience until he/they both are completely overwhelmed.

Wings as Erogenous Zones

Wing Kink

I love wings and true-form Cas as well. In fact I’m totally okay with canon-compliant, post-finale fic in Heaven if it means Dean can finally see/experience Cas’s true form (or at least glimpses/parts of it) without dying (because, you know, already dead and all that.) Otherwise, I’m always up for AUs where Dean can sense/feel/see Cas’s wings (if Cas wants him to) and they are an incredible erogenous zone for the angel. Maybe even his most powerful one.

Touching All Over

Touch-starved character overwhelmed from seemingly innocent touches

Touch-starved

Awkward First Times

Trauma Recovery

thank god you're/we're alive sex

Tender Sex with Lots of Eye Contact & Barely Repressed Feelings

Tender Sex

Shame in Sexual Desires

Room-Wrecking Sex

Reunion Sex

Characters mutually pining finally get together and have amazing sex

Desperate Sex

Sex gets paused to deal with PTSD then maybe returned to 

I’ll take all the Cas-is-back, ignore-the-finale fics that are possible. Give me touch-starved Cas after his rescue from The Empty. (Dean can be fully into immediately satisfying his needs or, for angst, still struggling with/unsure of his feelings/sexuality.) It’s tender and healing, or maybe it’s explosive with all those years of pent-up desire and needs. You tell me, I love it all!

Sex While Washing Off The Blood of Their Enemies

Sex While Covered In The Blood of Their Enemies

sex under the stars

Outdoor Sex

Car Sex - on the hood of a car

Car Sex - in the back seat

Hotel Sex

tender making out in a car

sex after a long car ride

For these tags, I’m thinking canon-divergent future-fic where Dean is getting older (maybe Cas is too, if he’s lost his grace), yet they still go out on hunts together on occasion to relive the “glory days”. (Sam’s happily settled down and out of the hunting life with Eileen). They enjoy post-hunt sex in the outdoors or in/on the car, or seedy motel, reveling in the adrenaline of the kill, reaffirming their need and love for each other. Yum.

Supernatural - Endverse Castiel/Dean Winchester/Endverse Dean Winchester 

Desperate Sex

Threesome - M/M/M

Threesome - Character/Crush/Another Version of Crush

Turned On By Violence

One last fuck before you die

Drugs - Drug Use

Time Travel - Sleeping with older/younger version of someone you know in your own timeline

Time Travel - Sleeping with older/younger self

Pairing-Specific DNWs: None here. Go as dark as you want, since it’s Endverse.

Um, yeah. Pretty much what the tags suggest. Dean knows its freaky as hell but maybe he catches his future self and Cas having sex and they invite him in. Maybe he sees it as a chance to be with Cas (even this very different Cas) like he can’t in his own time. Castiel is totally messed up over seeing the man he had fallen in love with (and fallen from grace for) as he had been, back then, and can’t contain himself now that he’s gone so deep into carnal/hedonistic pleasures.

The Orville - Gordon Malloy/Ed Mercer

thank god you're/we're alive sex

"We Lived" Kiss Reveals Feelings

Stranded - On Another Planet/World With No Way Home

Huddling For Warmth Leads To Sex

on the run together

Desperate Sex

One last fuck before you die

Fandom-specific Do Not Want: No Kelly-bashing.

I’d love something set in the alternative universe/timeline of “The Road Not Taken”, where the Kaylons have won, leaving Gordon and Ed on the run together.  Just, any kind of desperate situation where they know they could die at any moment, so they might as well seek whatever comfort, love and tenderness they can find being with each other.

Laughter During Sex

Awkward First Times

Friends to Lovers

First Time Sex is Non-Penetrative

Frottage

Something Made Them Do It

Drugs - Experimental Substance Has Weird Sexual Side Effects

Casual Sex while Secretly Pining

Laughter During Sex

Something fun and silly (and sexy), please, using any of these tags! The show just screams out for tropey “something made them do it” scenarios, be it due to aliens, alien food or drink, whatever. Otherwise I’d love a story where they realize they do have more serious feelings for each other than their (up til then) casual relationship has allowed.

The Good Place - Michael/Eleanor Shellstrop

Tentacles - Tentacle Sex

Tentacles

Xeno - Nonhuman Partner is Ashamed of Their Body

Experience - Experienced/Inexperienced

Awkward First Times 

Laughter During Sex

romantic sex

Tentacles - Gentle and Tender Tentacle Sex with Lots of Caresses and Cuddles

Fandom-specific Do Not Wants: No Chidi-bashing (but also, no Chidi/Eleanor endgame references/suggestions).

The ship/canon where I will eternally want tentacle smut! Michael seems so ashamed of his fire-squid demon form. I want him to find out that Eleanor actually finds it kind of a turn-on and would love to find a way she could...experience it. Since we know Michael can create simulations/realities (like he does in “The Trolley Problem”), maybe he can create one where Eleanor can see/experience a version of himself that won’t, you know, destroy the entire neighborhood or burn her to a crisp?

Otherwise I’m good with any kind of first-time scenario in one of Michael’s “reboots” (or later on when they’ve figured things out and are in Michael’s Neighborhood Improvement Experiment). Awkward Michael figuring out his human body’s reactions to Eleanor, them having fun and romantic sex, would definitely make my heart happy.

[swlbarnes]

More Like Home - Jack Kline x Reader

Summary/Request: @previouslyforgotten requested:  Hi! It’s me again. I was wondering if you could do a someone x reader fluff where the reader is decorating her room in the bunker because she thinks it’s too bland and the man of men of your choice help? Preferably Dean or Jack? But you can pick whoever:)

Pairing: Jack Kline x Reader

Word Count: ~3.6k

Warnings: none!! fluffy fluff with jack and the brothers!!

A/N: okay so when given a choice i tend to choose jack, and im sorry, so i tried to put a smidge of dean in there as well! i hope this is okay, thank you so so much for the request!! i love your ideas so much, they’re so soft :)

BUY JACK’S SCENT HERE!

It didn’t feel right. No matter what you did, or how you moved the existing items around, it just didn’t feel right. Going on two years of living at the bunker with what Dean had deemed Team Free Will 2.0, you began to realize just how drab you seemed to feel in your given room. While the golden numbers adoring the door, addressing it as room 17, were always a welcoming sight after a long hunt, you couldn’t help but want… more from the interior.

Sure, you had your fair share of sentimental objects. Your guns and knives were displayed proudly on one wall, always well within reach and easy to dismount if the need to use them arose, which it so often seemed to do. A few pictures cataloging your travels with the boys littered the space, along with your notebooks and other hunting materials scattered about. This was nice, and offered a great reminder that this place was where you slept, but it still didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like home.

You lay on your back, arms and legs spread out like a starfish pondering this exact idea the day that the bunker’s resident Nephilim, Jack Kline, decided to pay you a visit. Your door was already open, but he made a point to stop at the threshold and tap his knuckles against the wooden slab to alert you of his presence. “(Y/N)?” He called to you in question. You made no move to get up, and simply let out a low hum in response. The sound of shuffling footsteps grew ever closer. “Are you alright?”

A sigh escaped your lips at this query. Now, how were you meant to respond to that? Were you okay? In theory, perhaps you were doing just fine, but this answer just didn’t seem to suffice for your mind. So, instead, in a rash decision making moment, you blurted out a simple, “no.”

This seemed to be the wrong answer. Hardly a moment passed before Jack was pulling you up into a sitting position, his eyes wide in panic as they scanned you for any visible injuries. “What’s wrong? What’s happened? How can I help? I want to help, let me fix it!” He blubbered on without end. His hands pressed against your cheeks and he turned your head every which way in an attempt to spot the problem. 

“Jack,” you tried. He continued on. “Jack,” a bit louder this time. His voice grew in volume as well, incoherent gibberish of worry at this point. “Jack!”

Finally, he froze in place. Then, within a moment’s notice, his hands were gone from your skin, and a fresh blush swept up his neck and along his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I meant to say, uhm, what’s wrong? And… how can I help?” 

You furiously fought against the smile tugging at your lips, but in the end your expression won out. A bright grin plastered itself across your face. “I’m actually okay, Jack. You don’t have to worry about anything, alright? I’m okay,” you reassured the nephilim. Even still, his crystalline sapphire gaze ran along your skin in a fervor.

“You’re sad.” This wasn’t even a question, but instead a statement of fact.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m sad, per se,” you tried to ease his tension somewhat. The celestial being was having none of this, and swiftly caught on to the ambiguity of your words.

“But you’re not happy.”

Your nose wrinkled in thought. The nephilim was smarter than he ever dared to let on, and definitely more observant than your fellow housemates saw him for. “I’ll be okay, Jack. I’m just thinking, is all.” 

The boy pulled his legs up onto the bed, crossing his legs over each other criss cross style to face you fully. Comfy sweatpants covered his legs and a soft knitted sweater adorned his torso. Even in the summer months, the bunker could be quite cold, and there was only one reason that you never asked Dean to turn the heating up. As long as the air retains its usual chill, you get the pleasure of seeing a comfortably soft Jack Kline all year round.

Jack reached down and plucked carefully at the fabric of your comforter. A scowl formed on your face at the sight of the thing. It was the same tan sheet that adorned the beds in most every bedroom. It wasn’t special. It wasn’t yours. This room wasn’t yours. Everything was just a constant reminder of that fact.

You had to say, you truly envied the brothers’ abilities to cope in an environment that was so out of your comfort zone. Sam, though you know he had started out his time at the bunker in denial that it would ever become his home, had come around in previous years and began adding personal touches to his own space. The television was an important part of his room, usually playing some of his favorite movies or the local news station to stay updated on current happenings. His favorite books lay scattered on every conceivable surface. Room twenty-one was Sam’s and only Sam’s. Dean’s room held even more of his own personal touches. From the stereo concealing a hefty collection of vinyl records underneath it to the guns adorning the wall to even the countless family photos both taped to his walls and leaning haphazardly against various objects on his desk, room number eleven was undoubtedly the home of one Dean Winchester. 

But room seventeen? It could belong to just about anyone. You had hardly changed a thing since moving in. Most of the room remained in the same pristine state the Men of Letters had left it in all those years ago. It might as well be some random hotel room, capable of housing just about anybody at any time. It wasn’t yours. 

“Jack,” you spoke up suddenly, your mind set. The nephilim peered up at you in question. “Do you want to go into town with me?”

The boy’s brows furrowed in confusion, but he nodded all the same. “Can I ask why?”

Turning to the boy, you cast him a smile. “I’ve gotta make this house a home,” you hummed. Glee dripped from your words at the prospect of finally doing this. You were finally going to make this room your own, and no Winchesters were going to stop you.

-

Sam and Dean let the pair of you go relatively easily. That is, Dean ceased his interrogation once you assured him that you weren’t taking the Impala, driving the point home by jingling the pair of keys in your hand: keys that undoubtedly belonged to the ‘67 Ford Mustang you had brought back to the bunker after having fallen in love with the thing on a hunting trip to an old used car lot. You pocketed some cash and a couple of fraudulent credit cards, and you were on your way.

“So,” Jack began as he buckled the seat belt around his waist, “what exactly are we doing?”

Fair enough question. You hadn’t actually said your plan out loud. Jack was simply excited to spend time outside of the bunker (plus, the fact that it was with you was a real bonus in his eyes). You began to explain as you revved the engine to the old muscle car. “My room is just so… drab, you know? I want to make it feel more like home. So, you and I are going shopping!” The boys eyes lit up at this. “We’re going to go out and find some decorations and maybe we’ll paint the walls and everything. It’s gonna be fun!”

His feet shuffled in excitement. You had a feeling that, had you the ability to see into the boy’s mind, you would see a flurry of thoughts about how he had never been shopping for decorations and renovations before. That much would be true. The hunter’s life didn’t have much time for simple pleasures, so the fact that you were able to give Jack this little glimpse into a normal life sent your heart aflutter.

The ride into town felt shorter than usual, likely to do with the company you kept and your own choice of music permeating the air. Jack’s head bobbed along with the beat of the song flowing from the radio. Your hands smacked in tandem against the steering wheel, which the nephilim quickly likened to the eldest Winchester’s own driving habits. You poked your tongue out at Jack in retaliation, reaching out to turn the volume up to block his words out. 

Shopping with Jack was more fun than you could have even imagined it would be. He had such a wonderful reaction to every new thing he experienced, and it was clear that he wanted to soak in every aspect of human culture he possibly could. He was practically bouncing on his heels by the time you made it to the lighting section of the local hardware store. The way the seemingly endless aisle of lamps and lighting fixtures reflected in his irises made it difficult to maintain a casual facade, and you soon found yourself reaching out and grabbing his hand as you made your way through the store. This was normal as ever to the boy, who gripped your hand back just as eagerly and tugged you towards the mirror section.

Choosing a paint color was quite an adventure as well. Jack took this entire ordeal very seriously, especially after you explained to him how your current living situation made you feel. The discomfort you described was utterly unacceptable in his eyes. If a new coat of paint on your walls could alleviate that feeling and make you feel more at home, then the boy was going to do his best to make it the best paint color you had ever seen. That’s why you ended up standing in front of the display of paint swatches for around an hour before he finally allowed you to make a decision. It was all worth it in the end, especially once the paint mixer buzzed to life and Jack’s soft gasp sounded from by your side. He didn’t stop talking about how pretty the colors blending together was on the whole car ride to your next stop.

Item after item got checked off the list inside your mind. Picture frames, a new comforter, fresh pillow cases, professionally printed photos of yourself and the rest of the team, wall art, a soft new rug, little desk ornaments, and basically anything that popped into your mind that would make the space feel more like you. Jack even took it upon himself to buy you both matching art pieces, claiming that he wanted to have a piece of you in his own room to make sure you always felt like you were together. It took all of your willpower not to tear up as he happily placed the framed photos into the shopping cart. 

You arrived back at the bunker just as the last rays of daylight peeked out above the horizon. Jack, of course, insisted on carrying as many shopping bags as he could possibly fit on his arms. He was half angel, he reminded you, therefore weight wasn’t a big deal whatsoever. This made the unpacking process relatively simple, especially once you walked past Sam and Dean and the pair begrudgingly stood up and shuffled through the halls to follow you into the garage and help you with the rest of the bags.

“What’s all this for?” Dean’s voice called with a grunt as he readjusted his hold on the box containing your new nightstand.

You twirled around on your heels so you were walking backwards down the hallway, now facing Dean and Sam. “I decided my room was too… blah. Not enough me, not enough like a home. So, Jack and I went out and bought some stuff and we’re going to redo it! Painting the walls, new furniture, new pictures, the whole shabang. You guys wanna help?” You beamed at the pair of brothers. They shared a questioning look with each other, both shrugging before turning to you and agreeing. 

“Where’d you get the money, anyways?” Sam queried with a furrowed brow. You turned back around and cleared your throat in a bit of an awkward fashion. 

“I might’ve… stolen a couple of debit cards. And also a little credit card fraud. But it’s okay! Because when are we ever really gonna go back to those stores anyways, right?” You passed it off with a chuckle. The beginnings of an argument about how we don’t do credit card fraud this close to home and if you need to spend money in town then at least get the money legally arose from behind you, but it was too late. In a split second you picked up the pace and dashed off down the corridor towards your own room.

-

“No, no no no, not like that,” Dean corrected, reaching out and grabbing the paint roller from Jack’s hand. Only moments prior, the boy had tried to repeatedly press the cylinder against the wall in an attempt to apply the paint. This resulted in a small patch of globular paint right smack in the center of your wall. Your hand pressed firmly against your mouth in an attempt to fight back your laughter.

“I’ve never done this before,” Jack muttered in protest, his cheeks a bright crimson red due to his clear embarrassment. He peered over his shoulder at you, causing you to force back your amusement and offer him an encouraging smile.

“Okay, just… like this. Roll the paint on. That way it’ll be even, alright?” Dean demonstrated how to roll the paint onto the surface properly for a few strokes before offering the roller to the nephilim once again. Jack took the item with a newfound desire to do this right, and he continued to paint the wall in exactly the way that Dean displayed.

Sam emerged from the hallway empty handed, having just arrived back from wherever he decided to put your belongings while you started your renovations. At the moment, the entire room lay barren and empty, save for the paint cans and plastic lining protecting the floor from rogue paint. A thin layer of sweat made the taller brother’s hair lay flat against his forehead. He had done most of the heavy lifting so far. You found this amusing, seeing as Jack’s outlook on carrying heavy items seemed to change so drastically over the past hour or so. It occurred to you that it likely wasn’t the action itself that changed his mind, but perhaps there was an ulterior motive behind his kindness with you. The thought alone made you smile to yourself.

“You’re doing great, Jack!” Sam praised the boy, causing him to perk up significantly. Jack flashed a bright smile as he continued to work. 

Painting didn’t take quite as long as you expected. With the extra two pairs of hands, that meant each of you only had to focus on one wall. Soon enough, the walls were completely coated in your chosen color, and it was time to let them dry. You all took a break to eat dinner, which was filled with conversation about what you wanted your room to look like once it was complete. By the time you finished eating, the paint was dry and you were ready to move everything in. 

Strangely enough, Dean seemed to be the most hellbent on getting the “look” just right. Jack listened to whatever you said and wanted to a T, and Sam leisurely nodded and complied with your wishes as well. Dean, however, seemed to have a vision of sorts. Each time you explained your idea, he would interrupt you with a pitch for a completely different idea. Some worked, and you actually quite liked, others you ended up shooting down immediately. 

You worked all through the night, sharing stories and jokes as you went along. None of you seemed to feel the effects of the all nighter you ended up pulling. The atmosphere seemed too perfect to destroy with even a single yawn or complaint. At one point, as you and Jack worked on putting your new sheets onto your old bed, you couldn’t help but grab one of the pillows and toss it at the back of Dean’s head. Sam seemed to hold back his laughter to the best of his ability as his brother turned around with an all-too-serious look in his eyes. Within seconds, the eldest hunter grabbed the pillow from the floor and leapt up, charging at you with the fluff filled item held over his shoulder in preparation. A screech left your lips, and you bounded over the half made bed to cower behind Jack. And that was how not only Jack’s first pillow fight, but the first ever pillow fight in the bunker began. 

Your phone screen read 5:02 AM by the time you put the last touches on the space. One last flattening of the comforter, a quick check that the pictures on your desk were turned just so, and the final addition: a gun tucked carefully underneath your pillow. That was all it took for your room to be complete.You turned to the brothers and pulled them both into a hug. You expressed your true gratitude for their willingness to help you at such short notice, and for such a long period of time. Dean insisted that you owed him a new flannel for the fact that a splotch of paint was now visible on the fabric of the one he was wearing, but he retained his easy going smile all the same. Sam wrapped his arms around you and gave you a comforting squeeze, reminding you that he would always be there if you needed him for anything. And with that, they bid you adieu. 

That left just you and Jack in your newly completed room. You made your way over to your reclaimed bed and flopped down on your back, a soft smile adorning your face. A few seconds passed, and you peered over to where Jack still stood, simply watching you in wonder. You offered him a smile and patted the space next to you. He wasted no time as he, too, lay down atop the new sheets. A moment’s silence overtook you both, but it was far from uncomfortable. It felt like more of a mutual understanding. Like nothing need be said, because everything was already understood.

In a moment of surging self confidence, you reached over and grabbed his hand in your own. Your fingers laced together out of pure instinct. Just like back in the store, he reciprocated the affection immediately, even giving your hand a quick squeeze to show that this was okay. 

“Thank you,” you whispered into the tranquil atmosphere. The shuffle of fabric let you know that Jack had readjusted his position to be facing you without needed to see him at all.

“For what?” He asked you, his voice carrying the same soft tone as yours. He, too, clearly sensed the importance of this moment, and what it meant in the grand scheme of a hunter’s life. Moments like this don’t exist for hunters. Lives like this aren’t possible. But maybe, for just one second, you can pretend. Maybe you can pretend that this is a home, and that this is possible. Maybe you can pretend that your life can have something this good in it.

“For everything, really,” you began quite simply. You gazed blankly up at the empty expanse of your ceiling, wondering if Dean would ever let you live it down if you decided to put up those little glow in the dark stars. “I haven’t felt like this was my own space for… so long. It’s always felt like I’m just a guest, and that this is temporary. I keep waiting to have to pack up and leave for the next place. I even started avoiding this room altogether just so I didn’t have to face that feeling anymore. But after today?” You finally turned your head to look at the nephilim, only to find him gazing at you already with a look of pure awe. “You changed that, Jack. You helped me to make this something I can be proud of. I can feel comfortable and safe here, now. And I don’t think I would’ve taken that leap if I didn’t have you by my side.”

Slowly, the boy’s lips began to turn up into a smile. It wasn’t the smile he had been flashing all night. It wasn’t a bright, blindingly overjoyed grin that seemed to always split his face in half and fill the room with light. No, this smile was different. This smile was soft, and it carried the weight of everything the pair of you weren’t sure you should say. It was all you needed to see, and you let your head fall back down onto the soft sheets beneath you. 

The silence stretched on, but it didn’t matter. No words needed to be said for you to realize what you learned that morning, just as the sun began to color the sky a soft pink and the birds awoke with their song. This was a home, and it was your home. This was not temporary. This was your family. And this wasn’t pretending. You deserve the happiness and the love of that moment, basking in the relief of finding where you belong. You had found the good you needed, and you were going to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could. 

[retroandreal]

Stay Ready (Lyris x MC)

Not going to take all the credit, but the people who I talk to through the Lovestruck Discord really allowed me to come out my comfort zone when it comes to fic writing. Tagging @official-alex-cyprin cause you’re my writing hype-friend and wedding fails hype-friend as well HAHAHA.

AN: This fic was inspired by my favourite RnB song atm “Stay Ready” by Jhene Aiko ft. Kendrick Lamar. MC and Lyris meet at the taven she works at, but things are formed through a different way; promises, time limits, emotional limits, and the limits of love. 

Angst and tiny speckles of smut

Warnings; self-doubt and slight bullying due to MC’s looks

“My girl, you need to stop dozing off! Your regulars have been trying to get your attention for the past… I don’t know how long!”

I look up at Rosie as apologetically as possible “I’m sorry, I’ll get onto it, ASAP”, hoisting up my tray balanced with 7 pints of ale I head to the 5-person occupied table and greeted with an uproar of hellos and hugs. Nothing special really happens at my job as a barmaid but my regulars make it a little more bearable and upbeat.

The soft strumming of melodic stringed notes extracts my attention out my inner circle of regulars. With the tunes slowly approaching, I look back at Rosie to have a spat with the bard that was oh-so-late to the bar’s open stage night but greeted with the most beautiful sight of light pastels and flicks of precious gold metals decorating their neck, wrists, naval and hips…

“Hello, little bird… are your eyes lost?” I look up to see the enticing sight of heterochromia; jewel purple for the left eye and golden brown for the other. I stammer my response only coming up with absolutely no response at all. The beautiful being in front of me; a perfect blend of masculinity without compromising his feminine charms chuckles in an almost melodic tune similar to his harp.

“I see, well, my name is Lyris” holding out his perfectly soft looking hand despite his callouses, no doubt formed by his string instruments.

“M-MC…” I dare not look him in the eye as I fear my blushing will betray me.

“Mind if I play a few of my tunes? I see you are in need of a pick-me-up”

“Please, I ought to give the no-show bard a piece of my mind if he ever shows up”

Lyris and I go our separate ways, doing chores, serving, but unconsciously never letting my ears stray from the soft sounds coming from the musician.

~~~~~~~

After a few hours, Rosie takes her departure and leaves me to close up shop and do the final round of cleaning the tavern. Taking in a panoramic view, I drop my shoulders knowing how much work needs to be done.

“My bird, you seem disheartened. May I assist you in your final minutes?”

I look at his expensive looking drapes and cloth covering the expanse of his body.

“Ha! With clothes like that? You are no doubt from Altadellys. Tell me… what’s someone like you doing in a place like this? Nonetheless; in the Winter Wilds, barely covered and in expensive materials. Don’t tarnish your image for the likes of me”

I eye him as his pricks a loose strand of thread from his wrist, then looks me right into my eyes and instantly warming up my cheeks.

“You see… that mouth of yours is dangerous and blunt, yet adds to your charm… just like your ears”

I subconsciously reach to grab my ears, self-conscious as no one has ever called them cute.

“Besides” as he removes my hands “the quicker it will be for you to show me up to my room”

And not even 10 minutes later, Lyris has me pinned to the door of his room in a feverish lip-lock.

~~~~~~

“Come to Altadellys with me”

I blink rapidly at him almost suppressing a laugh behind my long hair.

“Frost! Don’t joke this early in the morning! I thought you were serious!” I playfully swat his shoulder, but he just looks at me, no signs of a joke in his expression.

“Wait… Are you serious?”

“My bird, why would I lie to you” he says as he kisses the tip of my nose

“Lyris, look at me, then look at you. I would never fit in there…”

“MC… I have never felt as free as I have since the start of last night. I’ve needed something like this in forever”

My mouth is now agape, trying to properly process why this beautiful being has made such a proposition to me

“I just have this feeling” he continues “You and I are meant to be”

Pondering for a bit he then looks at me like he just hit an epiphany

“How about just 24 hours? That’s all, after that you’re free to return to the Winter Wilds. How does that sound?

I take my time thinking; it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to experience the Capital and he’s giving me an out after 24 hours… nothing could possibly go wrong, right? I sit up, facing my whole body directly to Lyris

“Ok, ok I’ll come with you”

He then scoops me up into a tight hug, almost knocking the wind out of me. Damn, he’s stronger than he looks, and I’m liking it a little too much…

“There’s no place like here, so Stay Ready my little bird”

 ~~~~~~

“As you already know; the capital is divided into 4, reflecting the 4 seasons” he narrates.

“Ok, lemmi guess… Spring court? A Prince?”

“Correction; I’m a spring courtesan, I have no official ties and I can mingle with whoever I want”

I bask in the words that he just said to me; a courtesan? So, like… an escort? Would make sense since he was quick to have me under him in the span of 3 hours of meeting him. Hopping out of the lustrous, floral carriage, Lyris is instantly met with the cooing and flirtatiousness of the capital’s noblemen and ladies alike. Their unbotherdness into recognizing another presence with him gob smacked me back to the heavens… until one of the equally royal looking women looks at me, scans me up and down and turns her back to me, swatting me with one of the many ruffles of her ballooned dress across my ankles. Jeez, tough crowd in Altadellys… I already want to go back.

“My lively ladies, I must depart and escort my company around our beautiful city”

Met with multiple protests, whining and dagger-like glares in my direction, I shuffle behind Lyris and he leads me away and bids a songful farewell to the slowly dissipating crowd. Hopping back into the carriage, he leans in, dangerously close to my ear and whispers;

“I promise I’ll stay only with you; you taste so good and I simply refuse to share”

Man, this person knows what to say to make me feel better. But I know I’m smarter than that, I can’t let my guard down if the rest of the citizens of the capital treat me like this. A bowl full of poisonous candy with the chance of eating the one delectable treat doesn’t outweigh the risk of me getting hurt here. My ears alone show that I don’t come from here and I’m specifically from the Winter Wilds, and don’t get me started on my freckles. Distracted by my own thoughts, I fail to notice a royal noble dressed in many shades of blue enter our carriage and cuddled up close to Lyris.

Am I jealous? I’m close enough to hear the tail end of their hushed words:

“…careful who you’re with…. scandal…. ceremony”

Now, I finally realise what I have gotten myself into; a royal mess. I have to leave Altadellys.

 ~~~~~

Settling down in a local tavern after nightfall, a chamber maid enthusiastically and instantly calls it upon herself to serve Lyris with the most amazing customer service known to man; making sure his bed and table are sparkling clean while she barely glances my way as I search for a garment rack to hang my oversized coat. Bunkering down in an intimate corner room, Lyris carelessly flops down on the bed and rests his chin on his hands, peering up at me.

“So, MC, how do you- “

I quickly interject placing a delicate finger over his plush lips

“I’m not staying here. I want to go back now but thank you for everything”

Quickly jolting up from his seemingly comfortable position he spreads his arms open, mouthing ‘come to me’ in a slight whisper only just loud enough for me to barely hear. Bundling up in his warm embrace, the first signs of tears threaten to fall from my eyes and he gently rocks me in his arms. I know he’s carefully thinking about his next words.

“Look at what you’ve done to me. I’ve changed because of you. It’s only going to ever be you. Please stay!”

He jerks me away from his firm torso to look me directly in the eyes. The beauty of his heterochromia acting as a tantalizing persuasion to stay with him for even just one more night.  But I know my self-worth. No matter how much of a fantasy come reality this situation is, meeting Lyris and experiencing Altadellys; it isn’t enough to make me stay, not worth the snarky comments, the discrimination, the isolation, the loneliness. I know I’m better than this and I need to tell him.

“I’m a spring courtesan, you say you’re just a Winter Wilds girl, yet…” as he brushes a few stray hairs away from the side of my face, he cups my entire face, thumbs caressing my ears and expanse of my freckles on my cheeks, “you’ve brought the sun to me, I’ve never seen such light in anyone’s eyes. I brought you here so I can see them in my world, but I’ve only eclipsed them with the darkness of us nobles. My bird, what can I do to bring that light back?”

Looking down at the loose threading of the bed’s sheets, I croak out through tear-filled sobs; “All that I know is right now; nothing’s for sure. You’re not telling me something, who was that woman in the carriage with us?”

Lyris’ gaze falters, I know I’ve hit a sensitive spot. Was he forced? Does he not like her? Does she not like him? I quickly interrupt him;

“I’m guessing the truth ain’t pretty…” Sliding my hands around the nape of his neck, I place a brief, but emotion filled kiss on his lips.

“But coming from that pretty mouth, everything seems true. But even you can see, I don’t belong here. A Wilder girl and a spring courtesan… even if you spoil me with gold, I will never be able to grow. Allow myself to grow. The life in Altadellys is the life us Wilder people die to live in, but I’ve been given my life there and I’m not about to turn my back on it to live half a fantasy”

Desperate to recreate that physical intimacy from the night before; I cling to the expensive fabrics on his arms as he leads my head towards his, momentarily resting his forehead against mine before out mouths meet. For the last time.

 ~~~~

(Lyris’ POV)

I fear to wake.

I know she is not here.

Her warmth remains, but not her.

Broodingly making my way to my castle quarters, I head straight to my harp; the same harp that brough the Winter Wilds girl and I together for just a precious moment in time. The music flows. Notes and melodies being created as naturally as breathing in the air of spring. The lack of natural sunlight from my window mosaic tells me that nightfall has come. How long was I fiddling with my strings? But of course, with MC as my muse, time seemed to wisp away.

“I wrote a million rhymes to scrabble your star power”

A knock disrupts my train of thought.

Hortensia; “My wingless angel, it is time” muffled behind the thick oak of the door.

Placing my harp down, I think of her one more time, but not the final

“I have to stay ready, for one day to see her rise as my queen and Altadellys’ queen”

[afterspark-podcast]

G1 Episode 33: Transcript

Episode Show Notes

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Stinger]

S: Grapple and Hoist heave the Negavat- well no, Grapple and Hoist-

O: They heave it, they heave it good! [laughs]

S: [laughs] Yes.

[Intro Music]

O: Hello, and welcome to the Afterspark Podcast, and episode by episode recap of the Generation 1 Transformers cartoon.  I'm Owls!

 S: And I’m Specs.

O: Today we're going to be talking about episode number 33, ‘Auto Berserk’.  Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Sure.

O: And no doubt you've noticed, dear listener, we are again in our coronavirus void, uh, recording at our respective apartments because we don't have much of a choice right now.  So we do apologize if there are any sound issues.  We are doing the best with what we've got right now.  And today, we open with a test of the  Negavator!

S: Which the Autobots seem to actually be doing but the humans appear to be uh, participating or monitoring to uh, some degree.

O: Which, you know, after this is all done the Autobots congratulate Wheeljack on a job well done and some scientists are  extremely  happy when this giant ass tower disappears.  Of course, immediately after one says, “Don't forget your tape recorder.”

S: Soundwave is practicing his passive social engineering.  You know, like you do.

O: Like you do.  So Soundwave attacks, and the Autobots move to intercept him.

S: Red Alert is like, really mad that Inferno isn't staying with him, and Inferno just thinks that his boyfriend is cramping his style.

O: Oh, poor Red.  Uh, the Autobots  really  don't want the Decepticons to get their brand-new toy of destruction.

S: I have to question what the practical purpose of this thing is?

O: I mean, presumably, destroying Decepticons?  I don't know!  For uh, non- for them practic- you know, being like, they're all for peace, they do an awful lot of ass-kicking, I'm just saying. [laughs]

S: Yeah…

O: So, Soundwave then sends out all of us cassettes, all at one time.

S: They attack the bunker that the Autobots are in, collapsing the door and trapping them.  And Grapple is sad that they're destroying his beautiful, beautiful, bunker.

O: Poor Grapple, he just doesn't want his hard work- hard work ruined, it's always ruined.

S: Honestly, that has to be incredibly depressing, having everything that you build destroyed.

O: And you just know it like, happens with extreme reg- regularity, right?  Like, everything they build gets destroyed by the Decepticons, basically. [laughs]

S: Yup.

O: Um, so Soundwave is moving in on the Negavator, but Red Alert is controlling it remotely and shooting back at him.

S: Red Alert is playing as a realest video game.

O: Shoot the Decepticon!  Red Alert really doesn't want to be left alone, as Inferno again says he wants to go out and help the others before leaving the room.

S: Grapple and Hoist begin to clear the rubble from the entrance allowing the Autobots to escape.

O: They begin fighting with Frenzy and Laserbeak, but Optimus steps in front of the Negavater making it so Red can no longer get a clear shot at the Decepticons.

S: [sighs] Optimus.

O: [laughs] “I'm helping!”

 S: Don't play chicken with something that…

O: Can disintegrate you, or something bigger than you in one shot?

S: Or send you to the negative zone or whatever the hell it’s supposed to do.

O: [laughs] “You're going to the Shadow Realm!”

B: [laugh]

S: Yeah, so, because Optimus does the dumb thing, this allows Rumble to gain access to the cockpit of the Negavator.

O: Because this  has  a cockpit, despite Red Alert controlling it remotely.

S: [sighs] I don't know, man.  They wanted a backup and in this case the backup was a bad idea.

O: In this case the backup was a back door for the Decepticons to get into their cockpit!

S: Oh god, a literal backdoor.

O: Yeah.

S: [sighs] And that-

O: We have multiples of that this episode. [laughs]

S: Yeah, they really do.  But the Negavator is shot, and Rumble gets out before he's able to inflict any damage on the Autobots.

O: Soundwave and company retreat, but Rumble leaves a parting gift in the form of a rocket that manages to hit Red Alert who’s all- in- who’s all the way in the bunker, may I might- may I remind you!

S: Yup, it is a major tracking thing- honestly, Red Alert just got hit by the plot.

O: Which considering it's a Red Alert centered episode, they had to get him somehow.

S: Yeah, Red Alert needed to get some whump.

O: [laughs]

S: So he- Red Alert’s buried under rubble, crying out for Inferno.

O: Hoist is able to free him, but when Inferno arrives afterwards, Red is very angry at him for leaving.

S: Yup, later Red Alert talks to Optimus, seeming progressively more paranoid the longer they talk.  He even thinks that Inferno wants his job.

O: I feel I can safely say, no one wants your job, Red.

S: Yeah, Red Alert has clearly been badly affected by Rumble’s rocket as his head keeps fritzing out and causing him pain and distress.

O: Despite this being  very  obvious to anybody looking at him, Optimus doesn't order him to go, you know, get himself checked out, go get help.  He may strongly suggest it but he doesn't order it, this was his first mistake.

S: [sharp intake of breath] Yeah... the Autobots head back to base while the Cons watch on their TV monitor from, you know, their own base.  And Megatron calls Soundwave an ‘incompetent fool’.

O: Ah-hem!  Um, EXCUSE me?  Soundwave is the most competent Con you have, except for maybe Laserbeak and/or Ravage.

S: Don't you know?  No one's as good as Megatron, even when Megatron fails.  Plus... Megatron just really, really wants the big gun.

O: ...Does he- does he need a gun friend?

S: He wants to compensate for something.

O: I think he already is, isn’t he? [laughs]

S: Oh, he is, but he needs more compensation.

O: He turns into a gun and has a giant Fusion Cannon, you cannot tell me he’s not compensating for something! [laughs]

S: Well, if he wants to comp- he wants to compensate more.

O: [laughs] He must compensate  more  for his clone of Optimus Prime, got it!

B: [laugh]

O: You know that thing lives in a closet somewhere, Specs!  You know it! [laughs]

S: Yeah, I know.

O: [laughs]

S: I know. [sighs]

O: [laughs] This, and Russian Ravage, these are the only two uh, reoccurring jokes we have, we're sorry people.

S: Yeah…

B: [laugh]

S: [sighs] Starscream volunteers to go get the Negavator for him.

O: Which doesn't seem to be what happens, as the next thing we see is Megatron and Rumble on top of a ridge overlooking the Autobots.

S: Optimus hears something, but when he asks Red Alert to analyze it poor Red fritzs again and says that everything is fine.

O: And they are driving through a canyon, of course.

S: Yeah.

O: So, Rumble causes a rockslide that falls on top of Ironhide and Optimus, and then Megatron orders the rest of the Cons to attack.

S: Grapple and Hoist leave the Negavator unguarded, as they rush in to help, with Hoist-

O: [interrupting] Megatron’s very happy about this development!  Sorry.

S: Yeah, it’s okay.  Hoist, I think, was driving the Negavator?

O: Yeah, I think so.

S: But don't ask me how- how anything- somehow the Negavator’s cockpit is one size fits all.

O: Oh yes.

S: And then Smokescreen attempts to hide the Negavator by generating some smoke.

O: The Seekers drive- er, drive?  Fly through the cloud and temporarily lose their ability to navigate.

S: That this is honestly a terrifying thing that Smokescreen’s smoke can do. [sighs]

O: Yeah, especially for flyers.

S: Yeah. [sighs] So two of the Seekers run into each other, and then Starscream runs into a wall.

O: The smoke does not appear to detour Megatron much though.

S: He does kind of bang face-first into the Negavator.

O: [snorts] True.

S: And then he gets into that one-size-fits-all cockpit and now he’s the one controlling it.

O: I mean like, okay- I mean- at least Megatron can mass shift?

S: That’s a good point.

O: Like, Rumble’s roughly people sized I could see him fitting, you know?  Um, even, you know, uh, Hoist isn't super, super big.  But Megatron getting in there?  That's- that’s a stretch unless he's mass shifting.

S: Yeah, but Hoist- Hoist somehow has managed to fit in Grapple’s ca- Grapple’s coc- not cockpit…

O: Uh, like his cab?

S: -driving compartment.

O: Yeah.

S: Cab, yes.  So, I don't know, maybe Hoist can also mass shift?

O: Everything can mass shift from Cybertron. [laughs]

S: Maybe?  Ramjet [laughs] lives up to his name by ramming into the Negavater and knocking Megatron out of it.

O: “I've got morons on my team!” [laughs]

S: That is true.

O: He does-

S: I mean, most-

O: -he does. [laughs]

S: Yeah, most the Decepticons are not... not the brightest.

O: I mean, the Coneheads especially, I feel like aren't terribly bright.

S: And Ram- Ramjet, his entire thing is hitting things with his head.

O: And- that can’t be good on the old positronic brain.

S: Yeah…

O: [laughs]

S: Hopefully, they have good health insurance.

O: They’re Cons, you know they don’t. [laughs]

S: Yeah, that’s true.

O: They don’t even have a doctor, Specs!

S: I think that Constructicons, at least fanonically, fit into that role, but…

O: Probably, but they didn’t have a doctor for the entire first season!  Allow me to phrase it that way.

S: Starscream and Soundwave are probably the closest they had to doctors.

O: You're probably right, and that is scary.  I don't think I’d want Starscream operating on me, personally.  Just saying.

S: Yeah, huh, so the Cons retreat, leaving Starscream behind.

O: The rockslide is going to take  days  to clear, apparently?

S: But why do they need to clear it?  Why do they spend so much time driving in canyons?  Do they like off-roading?  Most of them aren't even built for off-roading.  So what's the point?

O: Nobody knows.  Optimus asks why Red Alert didn't warn them, to which Red Alert says, “They're all out to get him!”

S: And Optimus says that Red Alert uh, needs a complete overhaul. [sighs]

O: Well, okay, maybe don't praise it like that.  He's already paranoid as hell, he doesn't need help!

S: Optimus needs to go through some sensitivity training I think.

O: Yeah, we'll just- we're just gonna have, you know, a Leadership Summit that both Optimus and Megatron need to attend for vastly different reasons. [laughs]

S: Yeah.  Ah, Red knocks down Inferno and Grapple before running off into a forest.

O: Starscream watches all this and says that Megatron will regret abandoning him.

S: Starscream wants everyone to regret everything to do with him.

O: Pretty much.

S: I feel like.

O: I- I feel like, probably, many people do regret things that involve Starscream.

S: Yeah.  Red escapes into a city in his alt mode, and the others give chase.  And Ironhide finds what he thinks is Red Alert, speaking soothingly to him and gently picks him up.

O: Can we talk about how gosh darn cute this is?  Ironhide’s a good friend! [laughs]

S: He is. Ironhide and like, Perceptor can run the sensitivity training.

O: Yeah, you know I- well, okay I don't know if I think Ironhide could do it, but Perceptor definitely could.  Um, admittedly, I would love to see a sensitivity training ran by Ratchet?

S: [laughs]

O: I'm not saying he'd be particularly good at it, but I am saying the lectures would be  amazing.

S: Yeah, in context this is by a place that is on fire, so a fire chief runs up and says, “Hey!  That's mine!  Put it back where you found it.”

O: [laughs] So, Ironhide puts it down and apologizes, saying it looked like a ‘friend of mine’.

S: And in the context of this... part of the reason this is funny, at least to me, is that Red Alert is a Lamborghini.

O: Fire Lamborghini!

S: Yep.

O: [laughs]

S: Ironhide had followed the fire Lamborghini to where this fire was happening. [sighs]

O: Yep, and then uh, and- you know, where Red Alert  actually is, he is lured into a garage by Starscream who puts his hand on the shoulder.

S: Ohhh, bad touch.

O: Optimus then makes an executive decision to leave Red be and get the Negavator back to a more defensible location, or back to the bunker they were just at.

S: They got to save some money, gotta reuse, um, prior locations.

O: True.

S: Or maybe prior backgrounds?  I don't know. [sighs] Grapple says, “But Red’s circuits are going to explode if we don't help him soon!”  Grapple-

O: Well, that’s news to the rest of us!

S: Yeah.  Grapple has uh, has his priorities straight, I guess.

O: [laughs]

S: I don't know.  The fact that this is how they choose to convey this information to the viewer, I mean, that is kind of weird.

O: It really is, it really comes out of  nowhere!   But Optimus says their energy level’s too low to withstand another Decepticon attack.

S: Oh, they got to get back and share those beds.

O: Which are presumably portable, that they've set up in the bunker?

S: Maybe? Oh fu- or god- or they brought a bunch of quick charge packs or something that they charged up using the beds.

O: I’m just thinking, like, you know, um, like a camp- like the Cybertronian equivalent to a camping cot.

S: Well, I was thinking it's like a nap in like, a box or something.

O: [laughs] Like a na- a nap in a bottle?

S: Yeah, I don't know.  Ah.. and then meanwhile Starscream is gaslighting poor Red Alert into letting him get to the Negavator.

O: You know, with the good side of buttering him up, and Red is so out of it he ultimately agrees to this.

S: The Autobots put the Negavator in a really stupidly designed bunker with incredibly convenient air holes.

O: All the more for Red Alerts to get in!

S: Ravage spies on Red and Starscream entering the base, while Megatron also watches or watches through Ravage’s...

O: I think so.

S: Screen relay?

O: Which is weird, he’s not usually the one doing that.  Ramjet and Thrust though, are apparently very ready to weld their own air commander to a wall.  Volunteering to catch up with Starscream.  But Megatron has an even better plan, why do work when other people can do it for you?

S: Well, I mean, conservation of resources.

O: True.  True.

S: Back with the Autobots, Smokescreen and Wheeljack are going to try and find Red Alert.

O: Golly!  I hope we can find our friend before he explodes.

S: Well, I mean, they've got the ‘master of explosions’ on task so… Hopefully he can find them or-

O: [laughs] Again!  We're putting Wheeljack in charge of stopping explosions!  This does not seem like the best use of your uh, your ‘accidental explosion expert’.

S: Maybe he's just good at finding them before they happen?  So...

O: [laughs] He’s attracted to explosions, that's why they're using him.

S: [laughs] Red and Starscream enter the tunnels under the bunker, trying to avoid some horrible eldritch abomination of a machine.  And honestly, it really is.

O: Starscream screeches, “I don't want to die!” before brute forcing his way through a gate.  And they reach the Negavator.

S: Starscream sounds oddly breathless about this.

O: Look, Megatron is happy about well-built shit, Starscream as a science nerd.  That's just the truth, man.

S: True.  Red Alert hops into the machine and shoots the gate, making it disappear and allowing him and Starscream to get the Negavator out.

O: Megatron shows up.  Him and Starscream bicker, you know, normal.  Good thing Starscream does some real smooth-talking, cuz Megatron sounds  kinda  jealous here, not gonna lie.

S: Mm-hmm, but Red's not super happy about relinquishing his newfound power.  And, I mean, he's gotten a taste of that power so he's- who would want to let it go without a fight?  Not that, that paranoia he's dealing with us helping him right now, at all.

O: Right.  Red and Starscream struggle, but Red Alert is miraculously healed when he's hit with a shot from Starscream's Null Ray.

S: Or at least forcibly dragged into sanity.  Or back-

O: For a limited time.

S: -back into his right mind, yeah.  He gets into the Negavator and uses it against the Decepticons turning the tide of the fight into the Autobots’ favor... and I don't think we mentioned that the Autobots finding it out about them getting in there at all?

O: [laughs] They do, and they all just they just sort of shout at Red to stop, and it was just, Megatron showed up like three seconds later.  It felt very pointless.

S: Yeah.

O: But Optimus and Ironhide waddle to victory.

S: [laughs] The Cons retreat, but the Negavator blows up anyway and somehow this leads to a lot of smoke.  So why are the Autobots coughing?

O: A bad habit they picked up from their squishies? ...Or at least that's what I'd say, if Megatron hadn't also been doing it earlier when he was in the middle of Smokescreen’s smoke. [laughs]

S: Yeah.  Red Alert dives in... like, at this point I think most of the Autobots are like, outside and Red Alert is still inside, in the- in the bunker and Inferno dives in- or rus- rushes in to help him.  Because Red's been caught in the explosion.

O: Another explosion, and the rest of the Autobots think Inferno and Red are both dead.

S: Optimus says, “I should have gone myself!”  All self-flagellating- flagillating? Flagellating?  I can never remember how it’s pronounced.

O: I- I just think- Optimus, do- do you need to talk to somebody?

S: Oh, they need a therapist.

O: Yeah! Er- poor Rung.  Rung should have existed in G1.  I think everybody would have been healthier if Rung existed in G1!

S: Oh yeah, but Red and Inferno are fine.

O: Red apologizes, Optimus tells them, “It's fine.”

S: Red says something about friendship, friendship, blah- blah- blah, and then the episode ends.  And also this entire time, Inferno is cradling Red Alert in his arms in a princess carry.

O: [laughs] Definitely!  They're definitely boyfriends, no one can convince me otherwise.  But join us next time for episode 34,  City of Steel!  Learn more about six do-it-yourself projects utilizing your Optimus Prime.

S: [laughs] Yup.

O: [laughs]

S: We've got some uh, fanfic recommendations for today.

O: Yes we do!

S: Which I think you were actually just going to say too.

O: [laughs] We’ll get there, one way or another we'll get to the fanfic.

S: Okay, so, the first one up is  A Most Reluctant Noah  by The Starhorse.  It's based on the G1 cantu- cartoon, um, rated G, it's Gen, there's no pairings.  Characters are the G1 Autobots.  There may be some Decepticons, but I think it's just the Autobots.  This is one that I-

O: I’m pretty sure it’s just Autobots.

S: Yeah, I haven't read it in a while, but it's one that I do remember enjoying.  So, in summary, “First it rained...and then it rained more...and then it just kept on raining…”  And so, the theme for both of these is, Red Alert, basically being a pretty…

O: Central character?

S: Yes, thank you.  And this is a complete one shot, it was actually written, er- The Starhorse wrote it for someone?  Eh.. I think because of a contest?  I don't actually remember what the contest was, it's mentioned- I believe, in the- the notes.

O: Probably.

S: Yeah.  Uh, the second one is  Overkill  by Ultionic.  It's G1 cartoon, rated G, it's Gen, no pairings, and the characters are Optimus Prime and Red Alert.  And in summary, “Optimus thinks that Red Alert’s new security system for the Autobot base may be a little, um, over the top.”

O: [laughs]

S: And again, Red Alert themed.  This is a one-shot drabble and it's complete.  And it was pretty short but also pretty fun.

O: Fun at any length is always a good thing.

[Note: Our apologies, the author has removed  Overkill  since we recorded this episode, so it’s no longer available.]

S: And I think you have fanart recommendations for today?

O: Yes, I do.  So our um, recommendation for today is KKing.  Um, they have a Tumblr, a Pixiv and a Twitter, and they primarily were doing Beast Wars and Animated, but there's quite a lot of different art.  Um, they have a lot of humorous comics, or kind of sketchy drawings and for today we have um, Megatron and Dinobot having a discussion that's kind of serious.  (Ah, Beast Wars Megatron.)  But I really like it, uh, and then HONOR uh, Dinobot-

S: [laughs]

O: -which is a delight.  And then um, a Mega- a very Megatron Christmas.  It- it is also a delight it's literally one of my favorite pieces of fan- fan art ever um, because I love Beast Wars and it's just a bunch of the Predacons and it's completely, wonderfully, absurd.

S: The number of hats that Megatron is wearing or-

O: Yes, yes!  Well, no, I don't think he's wearing a hat I think he might have a bag?

S: His dinosaur head is wearing- oh, I thought that was a hat that his dinosaur head was wearing.

O: Oh no, no, no, I meant on his back but yes, the dinosaur head is wearing a hat as is his ducky.

S: Yeah, actually the ducky and the dinosaur head are what I was thinking of.

O: [laughs] Yes, for those of you haven't seen Beast Wars, Beast Wars Megatron has a ducky, that I shit you not, shows up in at least multiple scenes. Um-

S: He’s also got-

O: In his jacuzzi of evil. [laughs]

S: Yes, I was gonna say he's got a jacuzzi.

O: [laughs] Jacuzzi of evil!  I mean, look, if you're gonna hold council with your bastards you might as well be comfortable doing it, right? [laughs]

S: Yeah, for some reason I've just had the sudden... I don't know [sighs] mental assertion that someone in that show basically had rollerskates

O: Uh, you're not wrong, because Megatron's second frame absolutely is a- is a rollerskating t-rex.  I shit you not, there's an entire scene where he's rollerscoot- rollerskating slowly around someone in a vaguely menacing fashion.  It's amazing.

S: It’s-

O: You all wonder why I love Beast Wars so much.  This is why I love Beast Wars so much.  I get good writing, and I get completely stupid shit like this! [laughs]

S: It's been a while since I watched it but, that's probably what came to my mind.

O: [laughs] I’m just saying, Beast Wars Megatron is a  delight.   “Yesss~”

S: Okay, and that just about wraps it up for us today.  Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned.  You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter at AftersparkPod (all one word), and various other locations by searching for Afterspark Podcast such as AO3, iTunes, Google Podcasts, Stitcher, and Youtube, just to name a few.  And feel free to send us questions on Tumblr or Youtube.  Till next time, I'm Specs.

O: And I’m Owls.

S: Toodles.

[Outro Music]

[maggiemaybe160]

Forget Me Not

So someone on the @profoundnet discord thought up this angsty prompt and let me loose on it.  This is also on my Ao3! 

WARNING FOR MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. THIS IS A 100% ANGST FIC

“What have you done?” Castiel demanded as he marched into Heaven. His voice boomed and could be heard all over Heaven. Inside personal rooms, souls stopped at the sound of heartbreak and rage and wondered where this unwelcome interruption had come from. Outside, Castiel stormed.

“Castiel,” Naomi smiled behind her desk, her hands clasped together.

“What did you do to him?” he snarled, fuming. Two other angels grabbed his arms. Three sets of eyes glowed blue as they fought, punches thrown, blades summoned and dropped. Castiel was wrestled into a familiar chair, shackled to it, and held down by the two grunts. “You won’t get away with this,” he threatened through clenched teeth.

“The decent thing to do would be to tell you everything,” Naomi said calmly as she got up from her seat and walked around the desk slowly. “I’ve already won.

“It started with a dream. Do you remember that night, two months ago, when you were… cuddling?” Naomi spits the word, her eyes darkening. “Dean had grown tired and you… You were too busy watching the end of his movie to protect him. Weren’t you? He fell asleep without you that night.”

Castiel struggled against his restraints. He had known that his relationship with Dean Winchester was frowned upon in Heaven. He had known that angels weren’t programmed or allowed to fall in love and yet…

“We visited him while you sat in the next room. We stepped into his dreams and whispered a single word and then we left, undetected by him and especially you .” Her lips curled up as she spoke, taking her slow steps toward him. “What happened next, dear Castiel?”

Dean had forgotten. What had happened next was the spell that had been uttered in Dean’s dream  tore into his mind.

“He forgot you, didn’t he?” Naomi mock pouted before grinning.

. . . . . . . . . 

At first, it hadn’t seemed like anything at all. Not to Cas. Dean’s lapse in memory only happened when Cas wasn’t in the room. He had been in the hallway when he’d heard Sam and Dean talking.

“Where’s Cas?” Sam had asked. “Dean?” “Who are you talking about?” Dean had answered, but it had to have been a joke.

“Very funny,” Sam scoffed. After a moment of dead silence, Cas froze in the hallway, waiting to hear Dean end the joke. “Cas… your boyfriend… wears a trench coat… backwards tie… very literal?” Sam tried.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m leaving,” Dean announced.

“You can’t be serious! What happened? Did you get into a fight?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sam! I don’t date. Period. I don’t socialize with anyone who even owns a trenchcoat. When have those ever been in style? Never? I’ll go get you some coffee.”

Once Dean had left through the other exit, Cas stepped into the library.

“Are you two fighting?” Sam asked, looking up at Cas with mild worry.

“No.”

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean grinned, passing Cas a coffee as he reentered the library. They shared a quick kiss and Dean leaned into it just long enough to soak up the sun before going back to his seat across from Sam.

“Uh. Hello?” Sam looked between Dean and Cas incredulously.

“Yes?” Dean asked as he opened his laptop to find a new case.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Dean looked over at his boyfriend of nearly seven years and exchanged a confused look. “Are you feeling okay, Sammy?” When Sam doesn’t answer, Dean fills in the blanks. “Okay, Sam, this is my boyfriend, Cas. Didn’t know I’d have to come out to you twice.”

“You said you didn’t know who Cas was five minutes ago.”

“What?” Dean had sputtered, looking hurt. Cas waited, having heard the same thing from the hallway. All eyes were on Dean. “I would never forget you, Cas,” Dean said seriously to Cas.

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas whispered, hiding his smile in his mug of coffee. . . . . . . . . .

It hadn’t been obvious to Cas that Dean forgot him while they weren’t in the same room because… well… They weren’t in the same room when Dean forgot him. Sam’s worry grew and still, Cas remained oblivious. He was blissfully ignorant, choosing not to bite into Sam’s concern. Until it got worse.

Cas had been pressed up against the wall, Dean’s hands in his hair and their tongues in each other’s mouths. Their lips crashed together as they pulled and pressed, aching to be closer and closer and—

Sam cleared his throat and Dean took a step back, a blush rising high in his cheeks.

“You said you were going to the store,” Dean said without turning around, his eyes still on Cas.

“You forgot to give me the keys,” Sam answered with an awkward smile.

Dean sighed and turned to face his brother as he dug in his pocket for the keys to the Impala. “Where are we going?” Dean’s hand came up with the keys and he spun them around his finger.

“You said you wanted to stay here with Cas while I just grabbed a few things at the store…” Sam said slowly, his eyes finding Cas’ over Dean’s shoulder.

“What? Stay here with who?”

Cas’ heart slammed to a halt in his chest, all of Sam’s claims of Dean’s memory loss screaming through him at once.

“Dean?” Cas asked behind him, but Dean didn’t respond.

“Hello? Sam? Who the fuck is Cas?” Sam took Dean by the shoulders and turned him around. “What’s wrong?” Dean reached out and stroked Cas’ cheek. “Cas, what happened?” . . . . . . . . . 

“Dean, something’s wrong with your memory.” Sam had said, watching as Cas and Dean held tight to each other’s hands.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean insisted.

“You’ve been forgetting Cas.” The look of shattering heartbreak in Dean’s eyes in that moment would have been enough to kill him if he was human.

“No.” Dean shook his head adamantly, tears forming in his eyes. “No, that’s not… That’s… You’re lying.”

“It’s true,” Cas said softly, his thumb wiping Dean’s tears from his cheeks. Dean turned his face to press a kiss into Cas’ palm as he continued to cry. “We can fix this if we know what’s happening.”

“Can I have a minute?” Dean asked, covering his face with his hands and taking a few deep breaths. That was the last time Dean had looked into Cas’ eyes. When Cas and Sam had walked back into the room, Dean was gone.

“Where the fuck am I?” Dean called loudly from another room.

Sam and Cas exchanged the same worried glance and ran to find Dean. “Sam?!” Dean threw his arms around Sam and hugged him tight. “Sam. I… Wait. Are you real?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Am I still in Hell or did I get out?” Dean patted himself down, lifting his shirt to check for the claw marks from the hell hounds. “I should look like a Thriller video reject.”

“Dean?”

“What?”

“You don’t remember getting out of Hell?”

Dean swallowed hard, paling slightly as all of his memories of Hell flooded him. He shook his head and clamped his mouth shut.

“You’ve been out of Hell since September 2008,” Cas tried. Dean didn’t respond or look in his direction. “I rescued you. I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, ” Cas sobbed. “Dean, please!”

“Cas…” Sam faltered and looked from Cas to Dean. “An angel named Cas brought you out of Hell years ago…”

“Angels aren’t real.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“An angel named Cas,” Sam tried again. Dean blinked a few times as if returning to the present moment.

“Sorry, I zoned out. I must be tired. What’d you say?”

“Castiel. Cas. Angel. Best friend. Cas. Boyfriend. Cas,” Sam rattled off.

“Fine. Don’t talk to me.” Dean shook his head. “I think I need to go to bed. Good to see you, Sammy.”

So Sam had called Rowena and Cas had stormed into Heaven. . . . . . . . . .

“You and I both know how unnatural your fling is. It needs to end , Castiel,” Naomi said, picking up her favorite drill. Castiel squirmed and was immediately reminded of his restraints.

“It doesn’t matter what you do to me, Dean loves me,” Castiel fought. “He’s going to be cured of this.”

“It’s much too late for that to matter, poor dear Castiel,” Naomi smiled. “You walked right into your trap. Dean was just the bait.”

“No!” Castiel’s scream was drowned out by the whirr of the drill as it made contact with his vessel’s skull. The last word on his lips as he wailed in pain: “Dean!” . . . . . . . . .

“Cas,” Dean groaned as he resurfaced from his sleep. Rowena hovered at his bedside and Sam stood behind her. Relief filled the room as Dean sat up. “Where’s Cas? I just had the worst fucking dream.”

“I don’t think it was a dream,” Sam said softly.

“No. Too crazy to be real. I forgot him, Sam. God, I was so scared. I forgot the love of my life.” When Dean was met with Sam’s slow nodding, his eyes grew and his stomach turned. “No! Cas!” Dean whipped the blankets off of him and stumbled out of bed.

“I pray to thee, Castiel, please hear me! I need you! I need you! I remember you! I know you! Cas!” Dean screamed as he ran through the bunker.

The flutter of wings behind him made him spin, his relief swimming through him as his eyes land on his angel. Dean ran to Cas, closing the small distance. They were immediately wrapped in each other’s arms, lips landing on jaws, cheeks, noses, lips, anywhere and everywhere to just be connected. When the rapid fire kisses slowed, their lips found each other and settled. Dean’s hand tightened in Cas’ hair as he clutched his angel to him.

“Cas,” Dean breathed into Cas’ mouth.

Cas opened his mouth and a head-splitting screech came out. Dean didn’t have time to react. There was no time to untangle himself and cover his ears. There was no time to take a step away. The high-pitched scream tore through him.

Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged in Cas’ arms. Blood dripped from his ears onto Cas’ coat. Cas lifted Dean bridal style, letting Dean’s head rest against his chest. With Dean in his arms, Cas finally noticed the bunker. The war room had exploded. Glass littered the tables and floor. Every alarm was going off, but the lights were all broken. The table was cracked in half, the chairs on their sides and tossed to the far side of the room.

“Nejsdpqd pvcns jbdutab? Cas! Nejsdpqd aijbfehapfndj fopc Dean?” Sam asked, all of his words muddled.

“Dean’s not okay. I hurt him. I hurt Dean. Help,” Cas begged. Sam covered his ears protectively.

“Owdjk iofe euofnoiwspc emds?” Sam tried again. Cas shook his head and held Dean closer to him. He bent his head so their foreheads touched. He tried healing, but it wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working?

“P’jec soinc tifos hescvuis!” Sam said before leaving the room in a hurry.

Cas tried to summon all of his powers. Heaven hadn’t taken them. Human languages had been removed from his vocabulary. He couldn’t understand them and the bunker was breaking, Dean’s ears bleeding because of the Enochian. His powers were fine. He was summoning too much to try to fix Dean. It was too late by the time Cas realized what was happening.

Summoning his power to heal his boyfriend had been the wrong thing to do. His true form filled Dean’s vision, between their connected faces. Cas withdrew immediately, but it was too late.

Dean’s eyes were gone, his jaw slack, ears bleeding, heart… stopped.

Cas fell to his knees, pulling Dean tight against him. Tears streams silently while he tried to breathe. Once he finally pulled air into his lungs, a scream louder than anything the human ear could register filled and exploded the bunker. Doorways cracked, every light went out, the entrance burst outward. Cas shook as he held Dean, his tears falling onto the quickly cooling skin.

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @fandom-is-my-middle-name @ain-t-bovvered @soloarcana @thekingofselfloathing @samatedeansbroccoli @anarchiana @lily-t2019 @destiel-honeypie @spn-bb @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @skittles-rainbow-cat @k-lewis @destielhoneybee @castibella-shipper-of-the-lord @aestheticallydyke @righteouscomeuppancejogstheliver @deanwinchesterswitch @adventurous-blob @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @royalrowena @telefunkies @blueeyesandpie

[lonely-bored-writer]

Winchester meet the Phantoms Ch. 12

Things started relaxing, the ghosts were mostly spending their time in ghost zone with things getting closer to Christmas. Nothing else that goes bump in the night has popped up, his parents are at a convention in England, and today is the start of winter break. So some would say things were going good for him.

The problem is, he keeps seeing people with wings. Weird, he knows. It first happened when Sam, Tuck, and him were leaving the nasty burger. He held the door open for this elderly man, who Danny could swear had faint white wings behind his back. When he asked Sam and Tuck about it, nether of them had any clue what he was talking about. So, like any other teen, Danny brushed it off as nothing and went on with his day.

How ever the whole week that followed that day, people with wings kept appearing. It kept ranging from kids, to teens, to adults, to the elder, but it was much more prominent in adults. The wings ranged from gold, white, silver and black, along with the fact they started looking more prominent as time passed.

That's why Danny was currently sitting in his bed room, searching his computer for any creatures that had wings like those. The only things he could find were angels, but that couldn't be. He's met an angel before and he didn't have wings. Things were getting more confusing, and he had an idea of who to call.

"Hey Dean, is Sam there? Can you put me on speaker? Okay, so I might have a problem..."

"He's checking in with Cas to see if there's any reason I might be seeing angel wings" Danny sighed, taking a drink from his shake. "I really hope it isn't that big."

"Maybe it has to do with what those people did?" Sam questioned her friend. Danny paused for a moment, realizing his friend might have a point.

"She's got a point." Tucker joined in, taking a bite from his double bacon burger. "Your hearing, sight, and ice powers got a lot stronger. Whose to say you can't see things like that now?"

"You've got a point..." Danny nodded, glancing around the room to make sure no winged people were here. " If that's true, why are angels gathering here?"

"Are any here now?" Sam asked, lowering her voice.

"Not that I can tell..." Danny paused, watching as one entered the nasty burger, eyes trained on him. "Never-mind, don't look. He's watching us" Danny turned his gaze back to his friends. Immediately both his friends got tense.

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Tucker asked, trying to keep his eyes trained on his friend. Sam tried to do the same, no wanting to alert the angel anything. "Do they want something bad?

"From what I know, they never want anything good." Danny mumbled. "Considering things, I think they might be after me. I mean, they guys was staring straight at me."

"Okay, lets say that." Sam thought, pausing to think. "What are we going to do? I doubt Tucker and I can keep you safe from angels."

"I'll leave." Danny said, voice seriously. When his friends made a move to protest. "I'll try calling Cas, okay? But I don't want you guys getting hurt."

He walked a few blocks before he was pulled into a alley way. He barely missed the angel blade before it went straight through him. His eyes glowed green, seeing four angels. One with golden wings, two with black, and one with white.

It happened quickly, quicker than ever. The moment the four angels had him circled, a pierce stab of fear and alarm pulsing through him. It happened quicker than he was used to, no words were exchanged. The golden-winged angel made the first move, jumping forward and taking aim for Danny's chest. The move it took to block the attack, and blast his attack with an ecto-blast, pushing the angel gave another the opening it needed.

The pain flaring up from Danny's leg felt like nothing he felt before. Burning almost as much, or even worse, than the weapons the GIW and his parents use. Everything became a blear of angel after angel taking a jab at him, small nicks and bruises forming and the large gash on his leg bled heavily.

He couldn't get the angels to slow down, they moved quickly, almost as if anything wasn't going to slow them down. His didn't do much to delay them and he started loosing hope he could get out of this mess, already panting heavily.

It was a fluke if he was being honest. It was blocking to attacks that lead to one blade burying itself into the golden-winged angel. The flash that filled the area blinded Danny for a moment.

A moment too soon, the felt the slash before his vision came back fully. The pain blossomed across his shoulder, fogging his mind. The two other blades pierced into him, one through his shoulder, the other through his chest. The pain overwhelmed him, nothing like anything he felt before. It reminded him too much of the night his life changed for ever.

On the damp alley way ground, Danny felt himself slipping not being able to so much as keep his eyes opened. He left the footsteps vibrate against the grounds and he knew he wasn't going to make this out in one piece...

At least that's what he thought before he felt the burning light fill the air and corpses hit the ground. He couldn't make it out, but a familiar voice filled the air. But he couldn't hold on, his mind drifted to darkness with one thought in mind.

Sam Winchester was on a search for a new case inside the Winchester's bunker, his brother was off to the side with a beer reading away. They were settled into a comfortable silence, it was on of their more laid back days. Not much to do. So when Castiel appeared in the middle of the room, a body in his arms. It set what the day would be like.

"Dean! Sam!" Castiel's voice pulled them from their stare, having the brothers moving the moment Cas placed Danny's unconscious form on the couch.

"What happened?!" Sam asked, pressing his hand against Danny's throat, sighing in relief when he felt a pulse.

"Angels." Cas spoke, eyes watching the brother's move. "They believe he will grow up to be a king of hell."

"What?" Dean's head snapped up from his spot with the medical kit. "What the hell does that mean?"

"There is a timeline when Danny grows to destroy the world, I believe mentioned this when you first met."

"He said he stopped that version of himself." Sam responded, looking over Danny's wounds when the tattered shirt was removed. "He need's a hospital."

"No." Cas shook his head. "His blood is different, the doctors will notice." At those words, the Winchester brother's noticed it. A soft green glow emitted from the red blood, invisible unless you were really looking.

"Angel's are going to try and kill him now?" Dean asked, his brother and him working quickly to stitch and clean Danny's wounds before the teen lost a lot of blood.

"Yes." Came the curt response from the angel.

"Just because in one timeline he- Dammit Cas!" Dean cut himself off when he heard the sound of fluttering wings were heard, a glance back showed an empty space. His eyes landed on the pale and sweaty face of the teen, worry curling through him. "You better wake up."

When Danny came to, the first thing he thought was why his bed felt so small. Then everything came crashing down. The wings. The angels. Being attack. Being stabbed. Twice. Someone saved him.

Someone saved him.

Jolting up in realization cause a new wave of pain from his injuries. He cried out, wrapping an arm around his torso. "Hey! You'll rip your stitches." Danny's eyes landed on the worried gaze of Sam Winchester. A sigh of relief escaped him, allowing Sam to guide him to a sitting. He accepted the pain relievers and water with a grateful smile.

"What the hell happened?" Dean asked, arms crossed before him, worry clear. "Cas showed up with you a mess." So he's the someone who saved him.

"I-I don't know." Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I noticed one of the angels watching me when I was eating with Sam and Tuck... I didn't want them at risk so I left, I thought they weren't going to do anything when I was so close to my house but I was pulled into an alley way. I didn't hear them! How can you not hear four people!" Dean and Sam shared a look.

"It isn't your fault Danny." Sam offered comfort. "Angel's can be sneaky."

"Did they say anything?"

"No, they just attacked." Danny answered Dean, eyes train in concentration on the floor. "Whatever they used, it felt a lot like the day the accident happened..."

"Wait, so angel's are trying to kill me because in another time I become the king of hell? a demon?" Danny asked, eyes wide in disbelief. Yes, he had feared many times before the he would become Dan. But after two years from the initial date he was supposed to go down that route and never going down it, the fear lessened. "I already took care of that!?"

"Something must have happened to have the angel's freaked again." Sam sighed, watching the teen. Both the Winchesters felt bad for Danny. First it was the crazy demons who wanted to combine two mirror realms, and now they have angel's coming after him.

"How do I stop them?" Danny asked, looking over at the brothers. "I took one down by accident, I'm not even sure what happened."

"They only die from an angel blade, I'll have Cas find you one." Dean responded, sketching something on a spare piece of paper. He held the paper in front of Danny. "That's a sigil. It has be drawn with human blood and you slam your hand on it to activate it. It should work when you're in human form." Danny nodded, musing over the different parts of the sigil.

"Cas can also carve an Enochian guarding spell into your ribs." Sam added in. "It hurts, but it'll keep angels from being able to track you. You'll have to get Cas's number but it is important."

"Holy crap..." Danny trailed, eyes wide as he looked at Castiel's wings. Large black, full wings rested across the angel's back. They were the clearest wings he had seen so far. He felt himself reaching a hand out before pulling eyes shifted to the angel who looked at him with a curious look. "Can I touch them?"

"I do not see why not."

Danny's taking that as a yes. His eyes just seemed to widen more when he felt just how soft Castiel's wings really were. They were so soft to the point it almost felt like there was nothing there, but from the shift of the wings under his hand and the feathers ruffled by his hand, he knew they were there.

"This is weird." Dean mused form his spot next to his brother, who nodded in agreement. Both Winchesters were watching a scene of a curious angel watching a teen boy running his hand in the empty space a bit over the angel's shoulder. If the brothers hadn't know the teen could see angel wings now, they'd think he finally snapped. "As much as we love watching you petting nothing, Cas should put the carvings in."

"Dean's got a point." Sam nodded, giving Danny a smile when the teen pulled his hand back with a blush. "You do have school, and since you wounds are healing surprisingly fast you'll be good to go."

"Yea, I can't miss tomorrow of Lancer's going to call my parents in for another conference." Danny sighed, rubbing his clothed chest. Even with the shirt he could feel the ridged edges of the scars forming from the attack. He found it odd, he rarely ever scarred but these angel blades were able to scar him easily. "Okay, lets get this over with."

[waywardrose13]

Running With Wolves- Prologue

Pairings: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Feral!Omega!Reader (eventually)

Warnings: Language, A/B/O dynamics, graphic violence, Feral!Reader, harassment, attempted physical assault, cheating, graphic murder, age-gap, more warnings TBD

Sypnosis: She’s never been your typical omega.

She’s never fit the stereotypical soft spoken and submissive role. Instead, she’s hot-headed and aggressive, leading people to believe her to be an alpha. “Borderline feral,” she’s called, and she can’t help but wonder if that’s what she’s been battling against her whole life.

Being disowned by her own father and looked down upon by society for her biology kept her from allowing people to know she’s an omega. But when she meets her true mate, her secret is revealed, and she no longer feels safe inside her own home.

Fast forward a year, Y/N Y/L/N is living peacefully with her alpha and his brother. Her temper had been kept at bay since being mated, and Dean Winchester never expected her to be the omega most alphas saw them to be. But when he breaks her trust, and her heart, she snaps, and the inner ferocity she fought so hard against for years comes to light, and the only thing that can save her from herself is her alpha, the one who betrayed her in the first place.

A/N- Welcome to my first real A/B/O fic and new series. I’m pretty stoked for it and I hope y’all will enjoy it as well. Love y’all and hope you enjoy:)

I howled at the large shape floating in the sky, its white light casting a glow upon my shimmery skin. The humid air made my shorts and tank top cling to my sweat soaked skin, my hair sticking to my forehead and the back of my neck. Any other person would be uncomfortable in this setting, but not me. I hadn’t even noticed the heat, for I had been wrapped in it for days without the promise of escape. Instead, another howl ripped through my throat, a piercing roar that bounced off the trees and through the leaves, warning other predators that this was my territory.

My hands formed into the claws I once dreaded, the tips gleaming in the moonlight as I finally opened my eyes. The gold was startling, almost moving like a flowing liquid around my iris’. I snarled, teeth bared and sharp, my eyes zoning in on my target, his bewildered and horror stricken face trained on me. Emerald eyes bored into my swirling gold ones, and the sudden rush of anger and adrenaline surged through me. The memories and his words echoed in my head, and a ferocious growl made its way past my lips, making him flinch. Omegas were never paid much mind, never feared. But a feral omega wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. Before he could even think about reaching for his gun, I coiled and pounced, lunging through the air with my sharp claws extended outwards, trained on the throat of my alpha.

Running With Wolves tag list:

@thewinchesterchronicles, @posiemax, @cazycurlyhairgirl, @clarinette07, @itstatertot22, @supernatural-teamfreewillpage, @txp87, @vyseralgirl, @jessieray98, @xostephanie, @mirandaaustin93, @katiekatwinchester, @sammykb1994, @reginaphalange2403, @queenmorbid, @fangirl-forevers-world, @aimee-ginge, @leaving-the-past-behind, @mannls, @kenzieam, @turnerbabe1, @connie-c2, @anjiep24, @baby-bunker-pie

Forever Lovelies:

@jennalyncarrigan1230, @mogaruke, @kittyk26, @waywardsepticeye, @luciferslucille, @cookiecakeslive, @wheres-my-cheese, @supernatural-strangerthings-1980, @sunnysaysbookreviews, @nyxveracity, @raining-murder, @just-a-supernatural-sister, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @thehufflepuffblog, @donnaintx, @pisces-cutie, @waywardnerd67, @waywardbaby, @alexwinchester23, @jotink78, @kamoochlalives, @mersuperwholocked-lowlife, @impatient-witch, @sandlee44, @blackcherrywhisky, @ain-t-bovvered, @assassinofmasyaf, @supernatural-crazed-girl, @gh0stgurl, @theenigmaticwordsmith, @docharleythegeekqueen, @choosemyname, @1800-fandoms, @spnskinnyballs, @kcrews74, @adoptdontshoppets, @gh0stgurl, @x-waywardaf-x

Jensen/Dean beans:

@aubreystilinski, @whimsicalrobots, @dean-winchesters-bacon, @polina-93, @mirandaaustin93, @gigglesandwags, @akshi8278, @craftythecollectionsheep, @sasquatch5, @adoptdontshoppets, @thisismysecrethappyplace, @fangirl-forevers-world, @rawritsmolly, @frozenhuntress67, @ssaaraw, @reginaphalange2403, @x-waywardaf-x, @jessieray98, @thewinchesterchronicles, @cookiechipdough, @tryn25

[fandomoniumflurry]

How about it?

no pairing, Friday night Convention Karaoke

1.3k words no warnings

for @spnsongchallengebingo Killers: Mr. Brightside

taggers: @keepcalmimthecupcake, @becs-bunker @janai-mcgarrett @hunterswearingplaid

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This was the last thing you had planned on doing when you woke up this morning. You knew you’d be at the evening’s events but you never would have thought you’d go so far outside of your comfort zone and be on this stage. It wasn’t like you were alone, you were with friends and of course, the audience was full of members of your extended family. You might not know all of them but you were all here for the same purpose. It made it a little easier to stand behind a microphone. The alcohol consumed throughout the night probably helped too.

You needed this vacation. It had been quite the year and looking forward to this weekend was the one thing that had gotten you through. You didn’t have to go too far, the convention was smack dab in the middle of your hometown and therefore within your comfort zone. Though you signed up and were attending alone, you knew you’d be meeting up with close friends and new friends. Not only that, but you knew you’d be amongst a gathering of people that were there for the same reason. Not to mention, you’d be getting to meet and speak with some of your favorite people, those you consider your heroes, your idols. If you survived tonight.

You had seen plenty of performances over the last hour, most of them far more talented than yourself. And yet, your friends wouldn't let you step down. There was no way you were going to let fear overcome you this time. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you planned to make the most of it. And what would the weekend be without karaoke? Well, here you were, next in line with your ‘band’ lined up behind you, rearing and ready to go. The excitement and anxiousness was palpable, causing sweat to form and trickle down your body in places that made you shiver under the air conditioning.

How you ended up being lead singer on the song, you would never know but when Rich ushered you on stage, you were front and center with your girls doing backup. You weren’t even sure what song they had chosen until the lyrics popped up on the screen. You smiled confidently and allowed yourself to sink into the music.

At home, you loved to sing and you did it all the time. But that was within your own four walls with no one watching, no one around to judge you when you went off key or forgot the lyrics. Now your skills were on a pedestal for all to see and you had to close your eyes and take a breath to block out everything else. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t get too immersed and started dancing, ending up humiliating yourself after all. Your moves in real life were never as good as the moves you had in the shower.

As the girls started getting into the beat, they began to bounce and rock out before anyone started to sing. They were waiting on you after all. Not one to leave them waiting, you grabbed the mic stand and belted out the familiar words of the popular song.

“Come out of my cage, I’ll be doing just fine. Gotta-gotta be down because I want it all. It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?”

“It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss!” Your friends repeated in the background. At this point, you were all smiling and the crowd was loving it, dancing and bouncing along. It was an intoxicating thrill and you regretted never following your dream of doing just this for a living.

You pulled the microphone from its stand and moved around it, your body rocking with the rhythm as you continued. “Cuz I’m Mr. Brightside!” You pulled the mic from your lips as you belted it out. This was as close to a rockstar you would ever get and you’d be living off the high for a while, you knew it. The final note in an unpracticed and unchoreographed move, you and all four of your friends leapt into the air and came down in sync with surprise grace. The move made the audience scream and explode with applause and you took a bow with a wide smile. Your eyes dazzled brightly under the stage lights and the other girls began to file off the stage as you took your moment. They handed over their mics and you followed shortly after with the same intent.

“Now, I don’t know about you guys but I’d love to hear more from this little lady. How about it?” Before he had even finished speaking, there was more applause and squeals. At first, you were unsure Richard was even talking about you but when he stretched out his hand to you, your eyes went wide.

You shook your head vehemently as your heart began to race. Your friends pushed you back toward the stage and so as not to fall flat on your face, you took Rich’s hand and allowed him to pull you to the center of the stage once more. You had no idea what you would sing and you tried to argue that there were other people in line waiting their turn. But your fright was only worsened when he informed you that your group was the last. Your tongue was suddenly parched and shaky hands held onto the mic stand and returned the mic to its resting place atop it.

You wished that you weren’t the only one standing here staring out at the expectant crowd. Having your friends up here with you was the strength you needed to sing at all. But even they were staring at you from beside the stage. They wore smiles, nodding their head and hoping that it was encouragement enough to have them near. With a heavy swallow, you nodded back and tried to calm the tremors in your body. It didn’t take much thought to choose your next number.

A few whispers later, they had the track playing and you began to relax. “I did my best to notice, when the call came down the line. Up to the platform of surrender I was broad but I was kind.” The mood was a bit more somber but still light as you sung the words of another one of your favorite Killers hit. The crowd squealed along with your friends as you slid through the verse flawlessly. “Cut the cord.”

It was then that everyone started to bounce again and sing along. “Are we human? Or are we dancer?My sign is vital, My hands are cold. And I'm on my knees looking for the answer. Are we human? Or are we dancer?” Their reception of you made you feel lighter than air and you had never smiled so much. This was far better than just singing to yourself in the shower. So enraptured with the crowd and music pulsing through your veins, you were oblivious to the fact that Rob started to harmonize with you.

You recognized his voice as you made it through the next verse and the chorus you turned to him and were more than excited to be belting it out with him. This was the best moment of your life. At least at that exact second, it was the best moment of your life. When the song was over and the crowd cheered and you bowed and waved at your new fans, Rob was at your side. The applause ebbed and the singer finally found his chance to address you with an invitation you would be crazy to refuse.

“How about you come sing at the Saturday night concert?” Your eyes were wide and if it were for the sincere smile on his face, you would have thought he was joking. You couldn’t help it, you squealed with glee and threw yourself at him, hugging the man tightly and you tried to hold back the joyful tears. Another dream come true and you couldn’t even feel bad for squeezing the air out of ‘Chuck’s’ lungs.

[sapphic-scylla]

Cassus, The Devil of the Reef: Prologue and Forging of a God (Chapters 1 & 2)

(This is a Mass Effect/Destiny crossover so keep that in mind)

Prologue

Before the Traveler came, several races came together. One man investigated a beacon on a human colony on the outer rim of council space. What he found would kick start a war between the races of the Milky Way and a race of sentient machines.

This man was my great grandfather. Zachary Thomas Shepard was a Commander in the N7 Alliance Navy. Now, the timeline may sound fucked up, but that’s not true. As the war fell to a close and Zach’s decisions lead him to a crossroad, his gravitation towards the protection of the galaxy gave him the ability to destroy the Reapers once and for all.

Not without heavy casualties, the races began to rebuild. Before the war, the humans, asari, quarians, krogans, turians, and the rest of the races sent out a vanguard to the far off galaxy of Andromeda. This led to the colonization of a new civilization.

After the war on the Reapers, a new arrival caused the universe to flourish. A Golden age was upon them as a god had graced them with its blessing. This huge white ball called the Traveler. This ball blessed us with amazing tech, incredible healing abilities, and to many people it deemed worthy, immortality.

As this Golden Age settles in, my great grandfather fell in love with a quarian who was my great grandmother. Tali Shepard vas Normandy was a strong woman and a main inspiration for most of my life. Each of the heroes of the Citadel was gifted with that blessing of life and, with that, they decided to travel to Andromeda to protect and defend as well as start families.

Generations continued and, while in Andromeda, our family progressed to where I was born. As I grew I learned from all different sources until I turned six. I know my great grandfather and my extensive family is out there somewhere watching and praying for us as they watch from Andromeda.

My father eventually married my mother, coincidentally also a quarian, who was to be the last of her kind in the Milky Way.

Eventually, a small group of people desired to see the fruits of the Traveler more thoroughly. Several humans wanted to return to the Earth to begin a new life. Unfortunately, that was the plight of my grandfather as well as my father.

The rest decided to stay in Andromeda. Thanks to modern technology, she and my father were able to have four children together. I was the youngest and somehow was the only one to gain the traits of both races. Human in nature, but my eyes flowed a deep blue.

As my grandfather and the rest of our family stepped on a return ship leaving our great grandfamily behind, several years passed as we sat in cryosleep. As we reached earth.

Unfortunately, the god we had was also running from someone or something. That something was already there

Eventually, the universe began to take notice of where the Traveler was. The Earth and Solar system was attacked by heathen races vying for the Traveler. As we ferried into the atmosphere, we were shot down, thankfully with no casualties. As we bunkered down in Manhattan, we began to learn the history from the few that were left.

The Fallen scavengers attacked first. Then, the ritualistic Hive rained down nature’s vengeance, which just happened to be the ones that shot us down. They were followed by the time-traveling Vex and the relentless warmongers, the Cabal. With their attacks, they pushed us to the last remaining city on Earth, Vostok Russia.

I continued to grow up in the MDZ, or the Manhattan Dead Zone, as it became known as. Time moved forward as we defended our city and settlers. I eventually lost my grandparents in a raid by shadowy doppelgängers of the other races attacking we learned all too late were named “Taken.”

My father and mother became part of our small sectors leadership as descendants of the heroes of the Citadel. More details about life growing up will come later, but let’s just say life until I was 23 formed who I was as a man.

As we tried to push them back, the Traveler began blessing thousands and thousands of people with Light. These men and women were known by many names. Most of them were risen from the dead to aid the fight. These men and women became known as Guardians. As these demon forces began attacking our final city, this is where my story begins and ends and begins again.

Forging of a God

I’d always admired heroes. I never was one. I hid a mask of light over the shadow that consumed me. I always knew that my flip side would consume me one day, but most people like me had a lifespan. I did not. I was gifted immortality. Leader, savior, hero...all names I was saddled with. The only one I knew fit was killer.

I was one of the people that flocked to the mercy of the Traveler. Me and my best friend, Dredgen Yor, looked to it as a start of a new life, a change from who we were. We were 24 year olds who lost a sense of where the world was going. We knew our settlement was doomed and got what people we could out. We got as far as we could and thought we were safe. Just not as safe as we hoped.

We reached the outside of the wall when we were ambushed. Guns went off and explosions shook the ground. I yelled for people to get inside the wall as we held them off. As we fought off these demon creatures, I was shot in the leg and I knew it was over. Dredge died quickly. He was impaled and it was over. Me? They tortured me, left me to die, and all I saw before I blacked out after 3 days of the worst pain I’d ever experienced and the severing of all four of my limbs was a three-eyed swordsman from Hell, laughing as my head rolled away.

What feels like seconds later, I wake up in an unfamiliar skin. My limbs are all there, but a few feel metallic and rough. All except for my torso and the stumps of arms and a leg I had left were pure steel, parts, and stuff I can't explain. My face felt mechanical and strange.

I look up to see a pale, little box telling me in the most frantic yet sarcastic voice that we need to get inside the wall and that’s how I met Sapphire, my loyally sassy ghost. She’s a goofball, bubbly, and a weirdo most of the time, but she’s a nerd at heart and god help her, she knows more about me than I do and yet she loves me regardless. Strange, I don't remember the wall being that big.

As we move forward, I hear the foreign mumblings of what seems to be anger and interest. She finds me a Kvostov. Not my wheelhouse as I preferred pulse rifles and handcannons but I could never turn down a machine gun. As we took off in a derelict ship with not much more than guesses and questions as to what came next, I flew towards what felt like the right way.

I walk into the tower to see the first familiar face. Cayde-6, my old mentor, was waiting and somehow knew me from this new face. I guess considering he was an Exo now, an AI with the memories, emotions, and senses of a human, I shouldn’t be talking because I was in the same position. Guarantee he lost a bet to be saddled with tower duty. He was always a free spirit.

I guess all “Exos” had their own distinct personalities and mine stuck out like a sore thumb to him. He explained what had happened to me and filled me in on the beings in the wall. Fallen. Never heard of them, but they weren't who I was looking for. Cayde, being Hunter Vanguard, passed me a good hand cannon (he knew me too well) and said we have some work to do.

“These are gonna be just like your Hellfire days, dude. Only this time, you will actually be making a difference as actual heroes, not vigilantes. Do what you do best, Guardian. Welcome to the best of the best, the Hunters.”

Hellfire was a nickname I had gained in the MDZ. They said I could shoot a demon square in the face from a thousand miles away with a pistol. I wondered about the whole badass flaming pistol thing. I had always been a gunslinger by choice due to my weapon expertise and pinpoint precision, but with that and all of the throwing knives and grenades I could ever ask for, all of this could not be more amazing and perfect. I grew accustomed to these new powers, I began to wonder more of Dredgen and what of him.

“There are rules to being a part of the city’s Vanguard that you would do well to remember.” Zavala droned on.

God, this tour was long. I mean, I’m ADHD and overly hyperactive in my head at that, but, Jesus, it’s like Father Time was dragging a boulder the size of a krogan around with him. And why the hell were Titans so big. I felt like I needed a Sparrow to keep up with him.

“First, no researching past lives unless authorized by the Vanguard. You also must fill a patrol quota each week to make sure that everyone does their part.” He said, sternly.

I figured as much. That being said, my curiosity could kill nine lives off of the world’s luckiest cat.

“Also, only the Vanguard’s majority vote authorizes high-priority mission. We choose fireteams unless we trust the person’s initial choice. Any questions?” He finished.

“What is the capital of Assyria?!” I said in a witchy voice.

He literally just sighed and moved on. If he had to deal with Cayde, I can’t imagine how many of these jokes he had heard.

“On a serious note, where do I live?” I ask, honestly.

“We give glimmer for bounties, missions, patrols, and a finder’s fee for new tech, weapons, materials, and relics. You can use that to buy an apartment. We’re not picky as to where you stay as long as you report to the Vanguard regularly.” Zavala said.

“Fantastic.” I responded.

“Forge your light. Master your abilities. The more powerful and trustworthy you become, the more missions you get sent on and the more specialized weaponry we trust you with. Ever heard of a Gjallerhorn?” He asked.

“Wasn’t that, like, a rocket launcher forged by that old army of warriors?” I said, wondering where this was going.

“Correct. Gain our trust enough and maybe we will allow you to create your own. But not today. Good luck, Cassus. Make us proud.” He said as he trudged off.

A year passes and I guess a perk of being a guardian is that I’d be staying 24 forever. My body was already 30% armored steel but I wouldn’t be aging anymore, which is good. All of those mortal wounds didn’t hurt anymore which was brilliant. The Traveler had remade me and for that I’d be forever grateful.

Eventually, curiosity overtook me and, with permission from the Vanguard, aka Cayde signing me off ‘cuz he’s my bestie, I spent days in the Tower archives, digging out the remains of my past life. I spent hours, searching through pages and pages of scouting reports, histories, and biographies until I broke through. My brothers had been guardians. Pahanin and Praedyth. In fact, Pahanin’s old HMR was the first Exotic I’d been allowed to own. But his history was a different story completely.

Several decades ago, Kabr had been sent with my brothers into the Vault of Glass to investigate at the orders of none other than Osiris. Just when I thought I had avoided him for good. The Vex were the enemy that had attacked our town and forced us to evacuate. Their attempt at a foothold on Earth had lasted for a good year. Assault after assault we held them until they finally broke and forced us to make a run for the Last City. I had been split up from my brothers and my father. All I had was my best friend, Dredgen, and the very few refugees we could help escape. Until now. All of this was Osiris’ fault.

Osiris was a fanatic. He was unnaturally obsessed with the Vex and everything about them. Their networking, their hive mind, their terraforming, every aspect of them was something he wanted to dissect. He was also head of defense for our zone. Because he was eccentric, he was consistently dressed like a fucking Egyptian bird. See what I mean? So overly dramatic and egotistical.

What really bothered me was that he always put knowledge and curiosity before everything and everyone else in his life. He never gave a second thought to his own actions or the consequences. All he wanted was unlimited amounts of pure knowledge and if that meant risking a few humans’ and loved ones’ lives, so be it. However, the worst of it came about three years before my death.

The attack came when I was 21. It was a perfect summer sunset evening. I was about to switch out for the evening. Dredge and I matched schedules, so we would be meeting up soon for my “second job” as the city’s police force. Crisis and chaos can turn people nasty as all hell, so Dredge and I kept the piece the best way we knew how: through fear. As I walked in to Osiris to report on my watch, I found him tinkering with a Vex Hobgoblin.

“Osiris, what the hell are you doing?! This is not ok! This is going to end like the last time and someone else important is gonna die.”

“How will we know if we don’t study this?”

God, was he eccentric… “First of all, I am not a scientist, I am a bounty hunter. Second off, THIS” I said, shaking a Vex arm at him, “puts lives at risk! Great grandma Tali would not be ok with this! Shit like this almost destroyed the Migrant fleet! Society is crumbling. My mother died the last time you pulled a stunt like this!”

“But I’m so close! If I can backtrace to the main neural netw-“

“Osiris, the Vex have hive mind, if one of them got captured-“

I never got to finish.

For those of you who have never heard a Vex Mind scream, it is not something I can describe perfectly. It is a demonic screech of a vengeful machine god louder than anything you have or will ever hear. There are only a handful of things that were worse than what I heard that night. I ran out to see a Minotaur ten feet tall leading an army of other Vex, marching towards us in the distance.

“Evacuate…..EVACUATE!!!” I yelled at full volume.

“I can control them. If I use this unit-”

“Osiris, look outside, you ignorant bosh’tet! You can’t control that!”

“We can’t kill them, but if we can coerce them to fight for us, we can take back this planet! Our honor depends on…”

“DEPENDS ON WHAT EXACTLY?! Your obsession has saddled us into too many life risking situations already and for what!? Your own personal interest?! This planet or so you say?! My mother lost her life because YOU thought she could harvest their radiolarian fluid! And you think this is about HONOR?! Remember Javik’s words, Osiris? Stand on the mounds of hundreds of dead civilians YOU caused and ask them if honor matters. The silence is your answer.”

Those were the last words I said to him before we died. Words I had learned from the very last survivor of a an ancient dead race. I let those words echo in his brain before I stormed out to save the civilians.

That day, we lost everyone but the few families that Dredge and I could save along with a few orphans. Pahanin and Praedyth were nowhere to be seen. I learned from the Tower that the Vex in that town had been destroyed about a month after by Rasputin, the AI Warmind. He launched an attack, eliminating any chance for a Vex foothold on Earth. The Warminds were more active then.

After we escaped, it turned into a 3 year journey searching for civilization. Every place we reached was empty. We lived outside of Manhattan and we walked west. Cities, the whole country, was just gone. We knew the MDZ was gone, but we didn’t realize it was this bad. Eventually we reached the city and you know that part of the story.

That being said, a lot of lives were lost because of Osiris’ carelessness and lack of restraint. He was dead to me and he always will be and no action he can do will change that.

[video-drone-blog]

The Agony and Ecstacy of Settings Menus in Nier: Automata

((As always -- patreon.com/hegelbon and paypal.me/hegelbon for donations! We’re ramping up to a full domain switch-over and your contributions help with that, the podcast, and the blog more than you could imagine. Thanks!

PS: The podcast is now available on iTunes under No Cartridge Audio and RSS feeds are up at no-cartridge.net))

It looks like a Settings screen, 9B.

The release of Nier: Automata on the heels of the new Zelda, Breath of the Wild, has action RPG fans in some sort of near-shock coma. While the latter capitalizes on the promise of the N64 classic Ocarina of Time, producing what people are calling a game-changer in the open-world genre, the former is a bit more difficult to pin down. And with good reason -- Nier: Automata is the sequel to the not-especially-popular PS3 game Nier, which itself is a spinoff of the Popular-in-Japan-But-Not-So-Much-in-the-States Drakengard series. As a result, the genre-bending, meta-fictional action RPGs that lend their logic to the foundation of Nier: Automata aren’t really in the common imagination in the same way that the Zelda series is, and Nier (I’ll be referring to the new game under this title from here on out) is a bit of an odd duck as a result.

Half-Dark-Souls-esque-fighter, half classic RPG, and a smidge of 2D platformer and bullet-hell SHMUP, the genre conventions of Nier could be fodder for two or three blog posts -- I’ll be discussing them soon in the podcast. What I want to touch on in a brief reaction piece to the first four hours of Nier is the fascinating way the game does an end-around on Settings menus and typical RPG logic. To paraphrase the game in its opening, when it says that “Saving isn’t available right now, keep playing to determine save function,” it isn’t just being coy. There is a plot decision behind every function in the game, which both locks the player into Nier’s logic while pushing back against the seamless totality of that logic in a self-reflexive move that hints at the game’s idiosyncratic qualities.

Nier focuses on your characters’ foray into a post-apocalyptic earth, in which your avatar needs to kill machines that effectively enforce (what you are told is) an alien invasion that has pushed all human life to the Moon. Your characters -- androids -- work for the human race and are programmed to perform self-sacrificing labor and combat, constantly being killed and reborn into new shells of yourself with your memories more or less intact. I’m not too far in yet, so I don’t know the full twist yet, but given that the machines seem to have empathy and are producing weird hairless and genitally smooth humanoid bio-machines, I’m assuming that we’re not getting the full story.

Subtext. Subtext. Subtext.

This Twilight Zone esque plottedness follows the entirety of the game thus far, with small hints in the corners of our metaphorical eyes hinting at deeper plot revelations to come. There’s a lot in common plot-wise in Nier with the Metal Gear Solid series, particularly as concerns betrayal and incompetence in the higher levels of command.....or so I’d guess. In any case, the game certainly is quick to emphasize your characters’ roles as cogs in the machine of the Yorha forces, fighting the machines on Earth. Certainly, 2B and 9S -- the female protagonist and her male foil -- are completely likable cogs, don’t get me wrong! But four hours into the game, cogs they are, ready to follow rules and not stray from the rectitude of their orders.

Fascist robots in love (Stolen from my twitch chat, natch).

The mediation of such a gameplay choice -- that the player is aware of the moral peregrinations and complexities of the plot before the characters that they control -- is dealt with admirably by Nier, which insists upon the machine-quality of the androids. Despite their very humanoid appearance, 2B and 9S are absolutely robotic in purpose and function. After a very humanized early mission, in which both 2B and 9S must commit suicide in order to defeat several large machines, 2B is brought back to “life” in the intergalactic “Bunker” by 9S. The screen cuts into black, as 9S attempts to fix the video input signal. When you, 2B, regain your vision, you’re brought back to the settings menu, where 9S walks you through the “calibration” of your visual and mechanical experience.

In this moment, Nier does two things. One, and this is one I can’t properly describe quite yet because I’m not far enough, it gives you the option to turn on or off your “self-destruct” mode. The existential choice of suicide for a greater cause being broken down into a toggle switch is jarring, even with the somewhat on-the-nose OSHA warning of 9S who reminds you that “you should do this yourself. Regulations and all.” 

But the second thing that the game does, and this is the interesting thing for me, is that it sets into motion the total integration of the game mechanics with in-game explanations. Your brightness is adjusted so that 2B can see, not so that your monitor can display the game correctly. The voice volume has to be adjusted so that 2B can hear 9S, not so that the player can. There’s even a control option in the menu to allow for autopilot playing, in which a player can let the game play itself through some of its more difficult moments. Everything in this sequence takes the player out of the central subjective position and reorients it back around 2B as an autonomous protagonist. It locks the player out as an interlocutor.

And this mechanical tick continues apace. Your saving is not actually arbitrary -- it’s an upload of memories to a database. Loading is booting up an old body. Finding your body in the wild and collecting its information and items is as simple as replacing the parts of a new car with an old one. 2B is at once humanized in form and content as a thinking, personalized character, but is continually made to represent a figure in the gameworld that is figured by the structures of the menu screen. Toggles, choices made in slider graphs, nothing more irrational or complex than a scroll-down menu -- these are the explicit brains of the protagonists of the game. They are at once so simple as to be doll-like, and also so autonomous as to reject player input. The world of Nier moves like a wind-up toy, uncaring of its reception or its player, and the game is notable in this modernist ambition. On its face, Nier is a JRPG about attractive androids; under the skin, however, it is a mediation on free will, and one that from the get-go rejects your participation in that debate.

In other words -- it’s attempting a true artistic self-reflexivity. I’ll let you know how it does.

[asktheadeptus]

Dreadnought

"I am vengeance. I am retribution. Fear me, heretic, for I am your death."— Dreadnought Brother Zakiel at the battle of Shadowmarch

A Dreadnought, officially designated a Castraferrum Pattern Dreadnought, is a cybernetic combat walker of intermediate size used by the Chapters of the Adeptus Astartes as heavy infantry support for their Space Marine companies. Even the superhuman Space Marines are still mortal and can fall in battle despite legends to the contrary amongst the common people of the Imperium of Man. Dreadnoughts are war incarnate, towering machines that advance forwards with thunderous strides, fiery death roaring from the myriad of heavy weapons mounted on their hulls. They are terrifying foes, fighting with all the skill and ferocity of a Space Marine, but combined with the durability and firepower of a battle tank. Dreadnoughts are often mistaken by mortal observers for huge suits of battle armour or robots; they are similar to both and yet neither. Dreadnoughts are a combination of armoured walker and cybernetic life-support system; their pilots are neurally linked straight into the Dreadnought's cybernetic systems, and are able to use the walker as if it were their own body, although they are permanently entombed within its Ceramite skin until they are destroyed.

When the greatest of the Astartes are crippled in combat the Battle-Brother's body will be repaired and transferred into an armoured cybernetic sarcophagus outfitted with extensive life support systems. This sarcophagus is then interred within the heart of the armoured body of a Dreadnought if there is even a spark of life left. The pilot himself survives only as a tightly curled and shriveled organic component deep inside the Dreadnought, which is at once his reborn body and his tomb. Sustained and kept alive within the sarcophagus, the link between his physical being and the Dreadnought’s systems is absolute and for the remainder of his life. The Space Marine within the sarcophagus will control the robotic body of the walker and experience the outside world through a web of cyborganic neural links and sensors implanted within his life support systems. The sepulcher that contains a Chapter’s Dreadnoughts is a holy shrine, and the Techmarines tend to their charges with great care, fastidiously applying sacred oils and unguents while chanting the Litanies of Preservation. To honour these courageous warriors, the fallen heroes are allowed to sleep away the centuries, until need calls them to war once more.

The Space Marines encased within Dreadnoughts are often thousands of Terran years old. As a result of their great age, many Dreadnoughts, known as Venerable Dreadnoughts, are not only approached by their Battle-Brothers for support in combat, but also as advisers in the governance of their Chapter. The oldest Dreadnought in the Imperium, Bjorn the Fell-Handed of the Space Wolves, was a member of the Primarch Leman Russ' retinue and fought in the Horus Heresy when he was still whole of body, making him well over 10,000 standard Terran years old. When the Dreadnoughts are not in use by their Chapter, they are placed back into the Chapter's Chapel in its fortress-monastery to sleep away the centuries in a form of suspended animation until they are needed once more.

There are two standard variants of Dreadnought currently in service with the Space Marines. These include the older Castraferrum Mars Pattern Mark IV and the current standard Castraferrum Mars Pattern Mark V. Both variants of the Mars Pattern can make use of the same weapon load-outs, though Mark IV Dreadnoughts are considered slightly less adaptable and robust compared to the newer Mark V cybernetic chassis.

History

Dreadnoughts have their roots far back in the Dark Age of Technology, and have endured in idiosyncratic forms both on Mars and with the techno-barbaric warlords of Terra as well as scattered human realms throughout the Age of Strife. Some of these individual relics were still in service during the Great Crusade and early years of the Horus Heresy -- although many times re-tenanted over the millennia. Brought together under the banner of the Imperium, many patterns of Dreadnoughts existed and it was in latter-day conjunction with the superhuman physiology of the Space Marines that this technology had reached its zenith. By the 41st Millennium, the art of their construction has long since been lost, the arcane knowledge required passing into ritualised mythology, and each Chapter's Dreadnoughts are treasured relics. They are a living embodiment of the Machine God, representing the ultimate fusion of the biological and the mechanical, as each one contains a living, sentient being. The pilots encased in the shell of a Dreadnought often have memories stretching back for millennia, and these ancient warriors are a tangible link to their Chapter's past.

Weaponry

The standard Castraferrum Pattern Mark IV or Mark V Dreadnought carries a heavy ranged weapon on its right arm and the left arm acts as a Dreadnought Close Combat Weapon. The latter is usually a Power Fist with either a Storm Bolter or Heavy Flamer fitted below the forearm. Though the Dreadnought's Power Fist shares the same name, it is not at all similar to the melee weapons also called Power Fists used by other armed forces of the Imperium. Unrestricted by size or weight, Dreadnought Power Fists are vastly more powerful than ones carried by Imperial infantrymen, even Space Marine Terminators. The Dreadnought's Power Fist is (like the unwieldy infantry-borne Power Fist and Chainfist) strikingly effective against heavy armour. This, combined with the Dreadnought's own impressive unmodified strength makes the fist deadly to all, even heavily armoured foes like a Space Marine Chapter Master. Also, the Dreadnought's heavy vehicle armour means that even those that survive the initial assault can do little more than wait for the inevitable. The Space Wolves Venerable Dreadnought's melee weapon is a Lightning Claw with an underslung Heavy Flamer, though the claw functions the same as a Power Fist.

Other weapons used by various types of Dreadnoughts have included the Assault Cannon, Multi-melta, or twin-linked Lascannons as the heavy ranged weapon. Through customisations or conversions Space Marine Chapters may also possess "standard" Mars Pattern Mark IV or Mark V Dreadnoughts armed with Plasma Cannons, twin-linked Autocannons or twin-linked Heavy Bolters. One of a Dreadnought's weapon arms can also be replaced with a bunker-busting Assault Drill, as detailed below, transforming it into a Siege.

Variants

The majority of Dreadnoughts in use by the Adeptus Astartes conform to the pattern known as the Castraferrum, of which the Mars Castraferrum Pattern Mark IV and Mark V are the most common. In appearance, the Castraferrum is very different from other types, very few of which exist outside of the stasis-sealed reliquary chambers of the Adeptus Astartes. It is not as tall as such venerated relics as the Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought and its armour is said to be configured far more to the fore than the unhallowed Lucifer class. Some claim that the older Unification classes of proto-Dreadnoughts dating back to the time of the Unification Wars could be piloted by non-Astartes warriors, but the Castraferrum can only be fully controlled by a Space Marine, thanks to his unique physiology and mental conditioning. Ancient and incomplete archival fragments suggest that the Castraferrum Pattern was introduced in order to meet a range of tactical challenges. It is configured for direct assaults, the Ironclad Dreadnought being the ultimate expression of this role. It also excels in Zone Mortalis missions such as starship boarding actions, tunnel fights and combat deep inside densely built hive cities. Here, its lower profile allows the Castraferrum to negotiate low-ceilinged passageways that the taller Contemptor Pattern would be unable to pass along. The true reason, however, that the Castraferrum remains in common use while the Contemptor and other patterns are rarely seen lies with the technology utilized within its many systems. Instead of the ill-understood Atomantic Arc Reactors and Helical Targeting Arrays of the Contemptor Pattern, the Castraferrum uses an adaptable thermic reactor and other such technological systems already found within a wide range of current Adeptus Astartes war machines.

The Hellfire Dreadnought replaces the standard Dreadnought Powerfist with a Missile Launcher, trading its close combat ability for long-range, anti-vehicle firepower. The advantage of the Dreadnought's Missile Launcher over its Space Marine equivalent is that it is capable of moving at full speed whilst still laying down a barrage of missiles. Hellfire Dreadnoughts are usually referred to as Fire Support Dreadnoughts. The Hellfire Dreadnought's Missile Launcher carries up to 8 Krak Missiles that are capable of causing severe damage to enemy vehicles, and unlike the Missile Launchers carried by Space Marine infantry, the Dreadnought is fully capable of firing accurately whilst moving. The Hellfire Dreadnought can use any weapon in the Astartes Armoury other than a Dreadnought Close Combat Weapon or another Missile Launcher as its other weapon arm. A Dreadnought using either of those two configurations will be classified as either a standard Mars Pattern Dreadnought or a Mortis Dreadnought, respectively.

The Siege Dreadnought is designed exclusively for assaults against fortified positions. Some Space Marine Chapters have equipped their armoured Dreadnought Battle-Brothers to siege fortresses and lead their assaults upon other fortified enemy emplacements. They are equipped with either an Inferno Cannon or a Flamestorm Cannon for clearing out enemy infantry from bunkers and an Assault Drill arm for grinding through Ferrocrete in only a matter of seconds. This arm also usually includes a built-in Heavy Flamer so that once a hole has been drilled, the Dreadnought can pour super-heated Promethium into a bunker or pill box complex. Siege Dreadnoughts are specialized units and are only deployed when a Chapter needs to break through a stubborn static defence line or during close quarters street-to-street fighting within a city or town. A Siege Dreadnought's standard weapons loadout includes an Inferno Cannon, an Assault Drill with built-in Heavy Flamer, Smoke Launchers, a Searchlight and reinforced Ceramite Armour. In some cases the Inferno Cannon can be replaced with a Multi-melta, and 2 Hunter-Killer Missile Launchers can be attached using external sponsons to the Dreadnought's carapace.

The Ironclad Dreadnought is a standard Mars Pattern Dreadnought that has been optimized specifically for close combat. It possesses reinforced Ceramite plating on the front of its shell and can be equipped with multiple different weapons intended to aid in melee combat. Ironclad Dreadnoughts are usually armed with a Dreadnought Close Combat Weapon with an under-slung Storm Bolter, Heavy Flamer, or Meltagun, and a Seismic Hammer. These Dreadnoughts can also be armed with a Hurricane Bolter or a Dreadnought Chainfist which is nothing less than a Dreadnought-sized Chainfist. They can also be equipped with up to two Hunter-Killer Missile Launchers and the specialized Ironclad Assault Launcher that fires different types of grenades. These Dreadnoughts are used by many Astartes Chapters for close-combat situations and during sieges, although it is not as effective as the Siege Dreadnought.

Chapter-Specific Dreadnought Variants

There are several Castraferrum Dreadnought variants that are used exclusively by certain Chapters, and these Dreadnoughts are used only by these Chapters and any Successor Chapters they may have, although other Chapters may make use of them on special occasions or in small numbers. The known Chapter-Specific Castraferrum Dreadnought variants are as follows:

The Furioso Dreadnought is a variant of the standard Imperial Dreadnought and is used almost exclusively by the Blood Angels and their Successor Chapters, although other Chapters may use Dreadnoughts configured similarly to the Furioso Pattern Dreadnought though they are not called so and are usually referred to simply as a Dreadnought configured for close combat. The Furioso Dreadnought replaces the single long-range weapon carried by standard Dreadnoughts with a second Dreadnought Close Combat Weapon. True Furioso Dreadnoughts used by the Blood Angels and their Successor Chapters use special Dreadnought weapons known as Bloodfists and Blood Talons. These Dreadnoughts can also be armed with two specialized weapons used only by the Blood Angels and their Successor Chapters known as the Magna-Grapple and the Frag Cannon, these weapons make the Furioso Dreadnought more effective in medium-ranged combat. The Furioso Dreadnought has two further specialized variants that are found in use amongst the Blood Angels and their Successor Chapters, including the:

Death Company Dreadnought - Blood Angels Dreadnoughts are not immune to the effects of the Black Rage that plagues the Sons of Sanguinius. When a Blood Angels Dreadnought falls to the Black Rage, it becomes nearly impossible for the Chapter to restrain him, and as such he may rage out of control for days until the Chapter's Techmarines can rig a device to disable him. The Chapter's Sanguinary Priests can then judge whether or not the Dreadnought's Astartes occupant should be sedated until the next battle or relieved of his life so that another may take his place. If the occupant of the Dreadnought is still sane enough to follow direction, he will be moved to the Chapter's Death Company, where his Dreadnought body will be able to withstand tremendous amounts of punishment and his unending rage will result in the deaths of many foes.

Librarian Dreadnought - When a Blood Angels Librarian is critically wounded in combat, they can also be placed inside of the armoured sarcophagus of a Dreadnought. These Dreadnoughts, known as Librarian Dreadnoughts, are outfitted with built-in Psychic Hoods and are equipped with a Force Weapon, usually a Force Halberd, in place of one of the Furioso's Bloodfists. These Dreadnoughts are still capable of unleashing their powerful psyker abilities, and are protected by the Dreadnought's thick hull. Librarian Dreadnoughts are extremely rare amongst the Blood Angels and their Successor Chapters, and even rarer amongst the ranks of other Astartes Chapters.

The Mortis Dreadnought is a variant of the standard Imperial Dreadnought and is deployed almost exclusively by the Dark Angels Chapter and their Unforgiven Successor Chapters, although other Chapters may use Dreadnoughts configured similarly to the Mortis Pattern Dreadnought though they are not called so and are usually referred to simply as a Dreadnought configured for long-range combat or fire-support. The Mortis Pattern differs from all other Dreadnought variants, except for the Hellfire Dreadnought, that makes use of two long-range weapon arms. These Dreadnoughts make use of two sets of long-range weapons that are always the same, these weapons include sets of twin-linked Lascannons, twin-linked Autocannons, twin-linked Heavy Bolters, or two Missile Launchers. The Mortis Dreadnought is capable of laying down a tremendous amount of firepower upon a target, and since the Dreadnought's body is such a stable firing platform it can continue moving while firing accurately.

The Doomglaive Dreadnought is one of the rarest and most advanced Dreadnought variants in Imperial service and is used exclusively by the Grey Knights Chapter, the secret Chapter of Space Marine psykers that serves as the Chamber Militant of the Inquisition's Ordo Malleus. The Doomglaive Dreadnought, like all Grey Knights Astartes, makes use of the Aegis, a complex network of protective prayers, runes and other wards which are inscribed into the chassis of an Doomglaive Dreadnought and psychically charged to provide better protection from the sorcerous powers of daemons and the other servants of Chaos. While an Doomglaive Dreadnought is a fearsome opponent to face on the battlefield, the Doomglaive Dreadnought can provide more than just fire support to his Battle-Brothers, he is also able to support them with enhanced psychic defenses. This is possible as a result of the psyber-circuitry that is incorporated into the Doomglaive Dreadnought's sarcophagus and which can link its own Aegis field to the psychic defenses deployed by nearby Grey Knights Battle-Brothers, thus creating a series of reinforced psychic wards that is much stronger than what individual Grey Knights can project on their own.

Source: http://warhammer40k.wikia.com

[365footballorg-blog]

Armchair Analyst: Josef's binge, NYCFC's Free 8s & more from Week 23

August 5, 201810:38PM EDT

No need for a lede this week, let’s just pour up and dive in:

Sunk Costs

Josef Martinez got two more goals this weekend, in what was ultimately a disappointing 2-2 home draw for Atlanta United against a visiting Toronto FC side that’s just about rounding into “uh oh, they’re back” form.

Josef now has 26 goals on the season, is a mortal lock to eclipse the single-season mark of 27 goals (shared jointly between Roy Lassiter, Chris Wondolowski and Bradley Wright-Phillips), is averaging 1.16 goals per 90 (best in league history), has netted each of the last eight goals his team has scored (a league record), and 11 of the last 12 they’ve scored.

All of that is “wow.” But yeah… there’s a kernel of worry there, because Atlanta have left points on the board time and again via their lack of finishing from other sources. Miguel Almiron has vastly underperformed his expected goals numbers, and Tito Villalba hasn’t been the same kind of threat he was last year. If you bunker against this team and do it well (i.e., if you keep track of Josef), you can snag a result even as the Five Stripes control the entire game.

Do it poorly, though, and you end up with a furious ‘keeper:

Am I right to call this a worry for Atlanta? On the year they’re just 2-3-5 against what I consider to be “good” teams, and have struggled against the likes of Portland and Seattle when those particular sides have parked the bus.

Tata Martino, for one, is unconcerned. He lit up when asked about why only Martinez is scoring.

“On the second goal, was he taking a ball from the air, fighting off an entire defense and got a goal? No! There’s ball circulation that ends with [Villalba] waiting for the move, playing a cross, then Josef’s goal. I would be worried if we lump the ball in and let Josef manage himself alone, but this is not the case. Our right wing has eight assists, our left has 10 assists,” he said.

“Look at Josef´s 26 goals getting 24 assists – analyze that.”

All of that is true, even if Tata’s math is slightly off. You can see in the video above that Atlanta weren’t hoping to break down the bunker; they were specifically targeting certain parts of the bunker and forcing the TFC players to come play the ball instead of staying the zone. This was planned, and you’d be dumb not to plan to create chances for the most lethal goalscorer in league history, right?

“Truth is, he has big virtues, but there’s also a play circuit that allows Josef to find empty spaces. Otherwise our opponents only would have to keep him away from getting chances. That would be too easy, so they have to move to fill the gaps he is creating for his teammates. Those gaps are created with our ball circulation,” Tata continued.

“Sincerely I don’t mind and I mean it – he won´t stop making goals. There’s no way to neutralize a No. 9 when you have a team that supports our style of play. You look at FC Barcelona—you can’t keep [Lionel] Messi from making 40 goals per season, because there’s a style of play that allows Messi or [Luis] Suárez to finish in best conditions.”

This is a really good answer to an entirely fair question, and it does the right thing in putting the onus on the opposition to go to the film, unwind Atlanta’s sequences of play, and figure out how to stop putting the ball on Martinez’s head in the six-yard box. You want to stop them, you’ve got to stop him.

BTW. pic.twitter.com/LJ1IJ5FJYp

— Ben Baer (@BenBaer89) August 5, 2018

But it also dodges the issue: Atlanta keep dropping results when they’re the better team, and it’s because if the chance falls to someone not named Josef Martinez, it’s not going in the back of the net.

Off Brand

It was a good weekend for dropped points in the Eastern Conference. Ten teams played, and only one – RBNY – walked out with the full three points.

That includes a 2-2 Vancouver draw at NYCFC in one of the more unexpected outcomes of the year (but, because this is MLS, not even the most unexpected of the week). It’s fair to say that NYCFC have missed David Villa, and it’s also fair to say that his absence isn’t the sum total of what I will lightly term their “struggles.” They lost last week during a brutal stretch, played poorly in a win at Orlando before that, and then surrendered a home result for only the second time all season.

For a team as good as the one from the Bronx, that is “struggling.”

Let’s unpack how and why that happened against a ‘Caps team that had only 27 percent of possession on the day, and played a lineup comprising mostly reserves, and were outshot 22-8.

First, here is NYCFC head coach Dome Torrent’s postgame money quote:

“We found [Ismael Tajouri-Shradi] many, many times on the left side, we played free and this is our intention,” he offered. “Play with the wingers wide and they cross all the time inside. The best way for me to attack is our wingers wide.”

This is somewhat unusual in the modern game, one in which wingers are mostly inverted and fullbacks mostly overlap. But this is not unusual for City Football Group, and the system Torrent’s describing is the same one that Pep Guardiola mostly used at Manchester City last year.

1. The wingers stay wide instead of being inverted, effectively spreading out the entire opposing backline instead of letting them stay compact

2. The fullbacks push up usually in support – as a platform for distribution – rather than as pure overlappers. When they do push into the attack, it’s as often as not to be underlappers, i.e. playing inside the winger rather than outside the winger

3. The midfield has a back point and two playmakers. Kevin De Bruyne called the role a “free 8,” but really they’re just modern No. 10s who have to defend a little bit

4. Because the wingers are wide and the fullbacks are supporting possession, the Free 8s push forward to attack inside channels while the No. 9 occupies central defenders. Simple spacing – the wingers are pulling the backline apart by staying wide, remember – gives them more room to get into dangerous spots

5. That’s how Jesus Medina gets goals like this:

Tajouri-Shradi is the wide winger, Anton Tinnerholm is the underlapping right back, and Medina is the Free 8. This is literally ripped from the Man City playbook.

The problem with this approach is simple: It throws a lot of numbers forward and exposes the hell out of you on the counter. And if your Free 8s aren’t able to put in the requisite defensive work – and neither Medina nor Maxi Moralez did in this one – then you will give up goals on the counter by losing the ball in central midfield and why don’t I just show you the clip?

This is a very different way of approaching the game from what this team did under Patrick Vieira. I respect Torrent’s attempt to put his own mark on the team (even if I think many of his personnel choices are bad), and I still think NYCFC are much more good than bad. I still think they’re one of the three or four best teams in MLS.

But here’s a note my colleague Bobby Warshaw sent me, and I agree with every word:

NYCFC has been great at times – MTL and Columbus wins – but also really bad at times. If they click, they could be the best team in the league; but I’m worried they are tinkering so much and it makes whether they click on a given day random and unpredictable/untrustworthy.

A few more things to ponder…

9. The actual most shocking result of the weekend came in Frisco, where San Jose picked up just their third win of the year – and their first over anybody but Minnesota United – with a 3-1 result over FC Dallas. It marked FCD’s first loss at home this season.

San Jose did well to capitalize on a couple of bad errors from Jesse Gonzalez, and got probably their best central midfield performance of the season. Both Luis Felipe and Anibal Godoy (who I have been vocally down on) were clean on the ball and active off it, and that allowed the Quakes to be both solid and dangerous. It was a nice change, and a much-needed win.

For FCD… don’t look now, but they’re just 4-4-1 across all competitions since Mauro Diaz left.

8. No Zlatan, no party. The Galaxy went to Colorado without their star striker and left with a 2-1 loss, snapping their nine-game unbeaten run. LA aren’t/weren’t really able to control games with the ball, which means their defense has to scramble and make plays. As we’ve seen all season, that’s not, uh, their forte. And David Bingham has done them few favors in net.

Colorado did well to only field three center backs instead of their usual four or five. Bobby will have a nice long look at their new 4-4-2 diamond – and how it’s reviving Kellyn Acosta – this week.

7. Our Face of the Week goes to Seattle head coach Brian Schmetzer, who was super duper pleased with Will Bruin’s stoppage time goal for a come-from-behind 2-1 win at Minnesota:

We feel you, Coach! pic.twitter.com/yucFMrkgaD

— Seattle Sounders FC (@SoundersFC) August 5, 2018

This was all born of a switch to the 4-4-2, which allowed Bruin and Raul Ruidiaz to play off of each other for a few minutes. It’s looked very, very promising thus far in limited minutes.

If I was a MNUFC fan I’d probably be asking questions as to why Michael Boxall didn’t contest the long-ball that led to Bruin’s goal, and why Francisco Calvo didn’t track Bruin at all.

Of note: Adrian Heath benched Christian Ramirez in this one, and there are credible whispers he’s being shopped. A number of teams out there could use a goalscoring No. 9.

6. Real Salt Lake gave themselves a “gotta have it” 2-1 win over visiting Chicago on Saturday night in Sandy.

Midfielder Damir Kreilach – playing a box-to-box role in this one – got both goals for the hosts, and while his defensive deficiencies are always lurking, it’s been fun to watch him figure out this league and his teammates over the course of a season. For example, he knows that RSL center forward Corey Baird only rarely hits the “A gap” between the central defenders, and instead prefers to drift to the back post. That opens up the A gap for a late, Frank Lampard-esque run out of midfield, which is exactly how Kreilach got the game’s first goal.

Chicago are now down to 10th in the East and are under 1 ppg. They have completely failed to build off of a strong 2017 season.

5. Few teams in league history have been able to grind as well as this year’s Timbers. They weren’t great in Saturday’s 3-0 win over a short-handed Philadelphia side:

I hope the Timbers don’t fall for the fool’s gold that was last night’s 3-0 win. A Union B+ team that had no business taking points off any MLS side on the road likely would’ve earned at least a point if they didn’t make egregiously dumb mistakes in the second half. #RCTID

— Chris Rifer (@ChrisRifer) August 5, 2018

But they’re now unbeaten in 15, and picked up just their second multi-goal win of the year. They make you earn every inch, and the Union weren’t good enough to make a dent.

4. Orlando City came back from two goals down, and then came back from one goal down to steal a 3-3 home draw against the Revs thanks to a goal in second-half stoppage.

This game was entirely bonkers, and an entirely bad result for both teams. The Lions already have a bunch of nails in their coffin, and this is very obviously one more. But the Revs… the Revs had this, but once again their inability to defend in their own 18 just destroyed their hopes of creating any sort of breathing room between them and the hunting pack.

New England are now winless in five, have one win in eight, and are 4-6-7 since April 14. Only Orlando, San Jose, Colorado and D.C. United have fewer points since then.

3. Speaking of D.C., they went to Montreal and got a very useful point via a 1-1 draw thanks to a Yamil Asad goal (and how much would Atlanta give to have him back right now?), which canceled out Matteo Mancosu’s opener.

United shifted out of their usual 4-1-4-1 for more of a 4-2-3-1 with Russell Canouse and Junior Moreno on the “2” line, effectively shielding what’s usually a pretty vulnerable backline. Given that, the Impact were kind of flummoxed when it came to consistent chance generation. And given their inability to press, they couldn’t just turn defense into offense.

This was a bad, bad result for Montreal, who are still technically above the playoff line but are actually seventh in the East on PPG, and have a mostly pretty tough schedule remaining. If the miss the playoffs by a point or two, this is the game they should point at.

2. LAFC are suddenly sliding. Following Sunday’s 2-1 loss at RBNY they’re winless in four and have just one win in their last six. Teams have limited their ability to build triangles up and down the pitch – everybody’s got tape to dissect now – and that means Adama Diomande isn’t getting anymore tap-ins, and nobody’s really picking up the slack.

On the defensive side, it’s simple: Mistakes are getting punished. Tyler Miller’s spill led to the first New York goal, and a simple ball over the top led to the second. The season is a grind, and exhaustion leads to both lapses in concentration and physical failures. Expect a different-looking lineup for Wednesday’s U.S. Open Cup semifinal against Houston.

For RBNY, they’re back to 2 ppg, tied with Atlanta for best in the league, and their +21 goal differential is second-best.

1. And finally, our Pass of the Week goes to Sporting KC’s 16-year-old playmaker Gianluca Busio, who got the game-winning assist in his side’s 1-0 win at Houston:

Great pass, and a good interview as well. As he said, he was able to “drift” into Zone 14, and Houston have had trouble tracking movement through there all season in Juan David Cabezas’ absence. 

Houston lost their minds in this one, with three players seeing red and head coach Wilmer Cabrera also being dismissed. Given how far they are from the playoff line, how poor they are on the road and how the rest of their schedule looks, it seems quite likely their hopes of a return trip to the playoffs are just about fried.

Which makes Wednesday’s Open Cup semifinal that much bigger. Win there, and they have a shot at at least salvaging something from an otherwise colossally disappointing 2018.

Series: 

Topics: 

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Armchair Analyst: Josef's binge, NYCFC's Free 8s & more from Week 23 was originally published on 365 Football

[electricoutdoors]

Prepping 101: 12 Tips to Help People Start Prepping

How to Get Started Prepping

One of the questions that I get asked the most is, “How do I start prepping?” One of the biggest secrets about prepping is the fact that there aren’t any big secrets. Everyone does things differently and everyone has a unique situation that needs to be addressed when you’re prepping.

Here are some of the best tips I found from around the web on how to get started prepping.

Tip #1:

The single most important step to prepping is to just start doing it. This may seem easier said than done if you are on a tight budget but it’s true.

The most important and difficult thing for people to do is to just get started doing something.

Source: Tactical Intelligence.net

This tip goes well beyond just getting started with prepping. If you refer back to my article on How to Stop Bleeding this is my number one tip there as well. Just getting started will help you out. Too many people get caught up in the “planning” phase and never get into the “doing” phase. Get out there and get started!

Tip #2:

The foundation is, obviously, essentials like air, water, and shelter. Once you’ve got those covered you can then think about the next layer, and so on. At the top of the pyramid is self-actualization, which means things like enjoying hobbies and “finding yourself.”

Source: The Prepared

Starting with the basics is the best place to begin. Once you have the very basics covered, then move on to other items.

Tip #3:

The way of our past has simply been forgotten by the convenience of our current economy. Start collecting bottled water. The first item on your prepping checklist is to get water because you won’t be able to survive more than three days without it. Head to the dollar store or the now for some cheap finds in bottled water, but take heed of these bottled water warnings. Later you can get fancy with water storage tanks and water filtration methods.

Get water. Buy a few gallons of water starting with at least three gallons per person in your household. Buy water at the dollar store for $1 a gallon. You can’t live more than three days without water. It’s a precious resource. It’s just a start, but a good one.

Source: Happy Preppers

You should start out by storing water. You’ll need water than you think and you probably won’t be able to store all the water that you need. A good water filter like a Big Berky is a great investment! This allows you to gather water from outside sources without worrying about any possible contaminants.

The first step in filtering water should always be to pour the water through a clean cloth or even a coffee filter. This removes a majority of the large sediment from the water and will extend the life of your water filter.

Confused about which water filter to buy? Make sure you read our article How to Choose the Best Survival Water Filtration System to figure out what you should look for in a quality filter.

As always, be careful with water that is potentially contaminated with gas or other petroleum products. Most filters cannot remove this form of contamination from the water.

Tip #4:

Concentrate on bugging in, especially when you’re first starting out. Later, you can work on a bug out plan, but if you don’t have enough to bug in for long, that’s where you should be concentrating your efforts. Chances are high that you will not be driven out of your home by intruders; and unless you live in a place that may be hit by really terrifying natural disasters (very bad hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis, etc.), it’s a pretty safe bet to make that you’ll be able to be at home when an emergency happens. Home is quite frankly the safest place to be unless there is a direct threat anyway – things are where you put them, you have access to a lot more goods and supplies than you can carry with you – there are so many advantages to bugging in so that, if it’s an option, I would recommend bugging in over bugging out.

Source: More Than Just Surviving

Many beginning preppers focus on bugging out when they first get started prepping. Bugging out should be your last resort. All of your preps are at home so try to stay there for as long as possible. The only real reason to bug out is if staying in your home is unsafe.

Tip #5:

Disasters can strike quickly and without warning. What that disaster is, depends on where you live. Knowing what type of disasters could affect the area you live in will help you plan more thoroughly for an event.

Deciding on the type of disaster to prepare for will also help to determine the type of survival gear that is needed. If you are new to prepping, you should start by planning for the disaster that is most likely to occur in your area.

Source: Humans Are Free

When you’re first starting out, it makes the most sense to focus on the most likely disaster you could face. As an example, if you’re worried about something like an EMP but live in a flood zone start out by getting things that will help you in case of a flood as you build toward your end goal of prepping for an EMP attack.

Tip #6:

Food – We can last about 4 weeks without food, making food priority number two. The best approach is to stock up on foods you and your family eat on a regular basis, but keep in mind you probably won’t have electricity for refrigeration. An easy approach is… every time you make a trip to the grocery store, pick up an extra can or two of meat, vegetables, fruits, peanut butter, boxed crackers, and a few packaged treats. You can add to this list as you go, but the first goal is to build up a 3 week supply of food and water as soon as you can. (Don’t forget Fido!)

Source: The Survival Gene

Once you’ve stored your first few days of water, add some food to the mix. I often suggest that people work back and forth between food and water until they have about a month’s supply of each.

Tip #7:

You probably won’t be able to learn everything you need to know before the next disaster strikes. And if the power is out or the Internet is down, you won’t be able to Google whatever you need to know, so buy some books or print important articles and put them in a three-ring binder.

Source: Urban Survival Plan

Knowledge is everything when it comes to prepping. Try to learn something each day, even if it isn’t something amazing, it could prove useful in the future.

I really like Urban Survival Site’s suggestion of building an old-school library. The internet most likely won’t be as reliable (or available at all) in many disaster situations.

Tip #8:

Job loss is a risk everyone faces, even if you are self-employed. Does your family have provisions to get you through a hard time? I have heard people talk about losing work and going home to bare cupboards. How do you choose what to spend that last paycheck on? Will you get work fast enough to continue paying your bills?

Source: The Tiny Life

Prepping helps in all kinds of disasters. Job loss is something that people often don’t consider when prepping. If you need an extra reason to get started prepping this may be it.

Tip #9:

Do not go into debt preparing, but gather a little at a time. There is much you can do that will cost you little and that is gaining knowledge. Investing in preparations today is an investment in your family’s survival in the future.

Source: Preparing for SHTF

Prep as much as you can afford. Don’t go crazy buying hundreds or thousands of dollars worth of food and gear if you can’t afford it. Too many of us get caught up with shiny new toys and forget that prepping is supposed to get you out of trouble, not get you into it.

Tip #10:

Flour: Grab about 20 or 30Lbs of flour. Even if you don’t use much flour today, you would be surprised at how quickly if goes when you are making bread and pancakes. Flour is also a great way to extend your food supply if you happen to get unexpected house guests.

Sugar: Grab 10Lbs of sugar. Sugar is another staple of baking and can also be used to sweeten many other bland food. Coffee, tea or cool aid? You’re going to need sugar if you plan on drinking something other than water.

Salt: Pick up 5lbs of salt. Our bodies need salt to survive, although too much can be bad for your health. Salt also makes some of the bland foods we might be eating a little more palatable.

Source: Survivalist Prepper

Stocking up on basic staple foods can be much more cost-effective than buying piles of freeze-dried foods. In fact, many staple food items like rice, bean, salt, and sugar will outlast other long-term storage foods.

Tip #11:

Lately, these fear ramblings largely focus on what will happen in the event of a natural disaster or terrorist attack. (I know there are other things to worry about too, maybe even more pressing, how about you not tell me about them in the comments.) And while I’ve always laughed at the doomsday preppers who build bunkers and stockpile guns, I’ve recently started to consider that they might be on to something. Not for an apocalypse, necessarily, but for a disaster on an ordinary American scale: Hurricanes Katrina or Sandy, September 11th, even the 2010 blizzard with its empty grocery shelves and no clear routes to the hospitals. In my early-morning panics, I ask myself, how on it do I think the Trump administration will be? Will Trump’s FEMA be a fast, organized, efficient machine?

Source: LifeHacker

This is really two tips in one, well one observation and one tip. First, the observation. Prepping has become mainstream. When places like LifeHacker are covering how to start prepping, you can know two things. Prepping has made it to the main stage, and the people prepping aren’t the same old demographic that most people would expect.

Now the tip. No one can go it alone forever. With more people prepping now than almost any time in history, it’s very likely that there are others in your area that prep. Making contact with them, before disaster strikes could potentially result in an ally when you need them most.

Tip # 12

Get the mental attitude – understand what your specific challenges will be and make a plan to be safe in those instances. Do you need to prepare for earthquakes, wildfires and civil unrest? How will your family communicate if you are separated? Once you have a plan you can buy or make the things you need.

Source: Preparedness Mama

Having the correct mindset goes even farther than understanding your situation. This is perhaps the most important tip of all of them. Having the mindset to survive, no matter the opposition will take you farther than almost any other item you can store away!

Conclusion

Getting started prepping can be a daunting task. Just get started as soon as you can and focus on the basics. You’ll be more prepared than you ever thought you could be in no time.

Be sure to check out our other preparedness articles for more information on where to go from here. Our article on 40 great prepping tips is a good place to start.

Prepping 101: 12 Tips to Help People Start Prepping was first seen on: readylifestyle.com

Prepping 101: 12 Tips to Help People Start Prepping published first on https://readylifesytle.tumblr.com

[inb4vaughn]

Putting Secrets From A True Master

I’m going to let you in on one of my favorite putting secrets.

In 1981, when my Florida Southern team arrived at Hop Meadow in Simsbury, Connecticut just outside Hartford, we encountered a long, tight course with deep rough and fast, undulated putting surfaces.

At our team dinner after our first practice round one of my teammates turned to me and said, “Well, TP, it look like it’s not gonna be your week.” I looked at him knowing he was having a go at me and asked, “yeah, why’s that?“ He replied, “much too long for you and the rough is tough.” Understand I have never been blessed with the gift of speed therefore yards were never in my favor.

All my teammates where long and strong. I, however, explained matter-of-factly that those exact reasons where why I thought I’d do very well that week. For one, it was tight and I drive it straighter then the average bear. Second, I can chip, pitch, and hit bunker shots at a very fairly high level. More than anything else, I can putt my rock like nobody’s business. I told my teammate simply that I hoped he could keep up. They all laughed, but I was sure the others thought he was right and I was fantasizing.

Well, at week’s end we had won the 1981 NCAA ll National Team Championship by a whopping 35 strokes. My teammates all played well. Mr Short Ball, yours truly, had captured the individual National Championship with an extraordinary putting week. As predicted.

Below I’d like to share a few of my most favorite putting secrets and drills that I have learned and used both for myself as well as my students the last 36 years. At age 58 I continue to putt the ball beautifully most days.

CONFIDENCE

It’s the old chicken and the egg thing. Putt better, confidence grows. Have confidence to putt better. I have always approached so many challenges in life with the attitude that most all things are in fact possible. I have never considered myself a dreamer but in fact a realist. Of course, I do agree sound mechanics and a foolproof practice routine clearly need to be part of the overall equation. I know so many folks with great mechanics who still do not putt well ONLY because the belief condition is flawed. Believe, therefore achieve! If you develop sound fundamentals and a solid practice routine you WILL become a good putter. Believe in the process.

GENERAL THOUGHTS

Do you have to be fast to be a good putter? Do you have to be strong to be a good putter? Do you have to be able to leap tall buildings with a single bound to be a good putter? The answers to all of the above is a simple NO! So let me ask you, then, why can’t you develop a putting game as sound as Jordan Spieth, Ben Crenshaw, Zach Johnson or Steve Stricker? I fully believe you can, and if you did, how many shots a round would you save? The first thing you have to want to embrace to become a great putter is a full-time commitment to the amount of time/reps needed to fully excel at the skill. Putting is feel based. Reps are critical. No short cuts.

Mechanics

The beauty of putting versus the full swing is that there are far fewer moving parts and those that do move, move at a much slower rate of speed. The three most common ills I see with the recreational golfer during the act we call putting are a poor set up condition (ball position, position of the eye line, a balanced set-up condition, a grip that will allow the putter face to properly behave through the impact zone, hand and arm tension levels) a moving head or body, and left wrist breakdown.

The Putting Set Up

I like a balanced set-up with the weight equally distributed both right and left as well as heel to toe. My preference is that the eyes are located either over the ball directly or certainly over some part of the extended target line. I like the ball to be positioned under the left breast. My wish is that the grip is a unified condition and that the tension levels are such that the putter head can swing freely and therefore release through impact without manipulation. See Photo 1 for my set-up.

Keep the Mind Quiet

I believe it is 100 percent critical that the head remains still and quiet post impact for as much two seconds.

I call this my putting insurance policy. Of course, this should be true of the lower body as well. A quiet coconut ensures center face contact which is vital to the player’s athletic brain calibrating speed control. Speed control, I feel, is the most critical skill to be developed to become a great putter long term.

Left Wrist Breakdown

Left wrist control is in fact face control. Control your left wrist through and post impact and control the club face. Developing a flat left wrist will put you immediately on the road to many more putts starting on line.

MY FAVORITE DRILLS

The Lag Drill

I like to put four tees forming four feet by four feet square on the green. I then take 10 normal strides away from the square (approximately 30 feet ). I place a tee in the ground. Then, in three-ball increments, I putt the balls toward the square. I must have 18 balls (18 holes ) in a row finish in the square; if any one missed I have to go back to zero and start again. Keep in mind that if a ball finishes in the four by four square and, in theory, the hole is in the center of the square, the longest second putt you could have is a two-footer.

The Gate Drill

If my Lag Drill is all about speed control, my Gate Drill (Photos 2-5) is all about the ball starting on the correct line. For any ball to start on line, clearly the face/path relationship has to be pristine at the moment of truth we call impact. I set two tees a shade wider than the size of a putter head, then place the ball centered between the tees and simply rehearse making a solid center face square contact. Once that occurrence becomes somewhat consistent I’ll build a second, slightly wider gate half way between my starting gate and a hole five feet away. I then ask the student to get 9 balls (9 holes ) through the second gate and, again, if they miss they must go back to zero and start again. It’s amazing how well the eyes start to aim the putter face in relatively short time.

Now imagine 30, 60, or 90 days having worked on these two drills. One drill is basically a speed control drill (The Lag Drill ) and one is an On-Line Drill ( The Gate Drill ). Let me ask you, how many shots better would your bottom line on the scorecard be?

Let’s not oversimplify, but when you break it down putting is only two primary functions: The ability to control speed and the ability to roll the ball down a desired line.

Embrace the artform we call putting! Develop a sound mechanical form along with a solid set of drills to develop the necessary form to hole more putts.

And most of all, believe.

Tom Patri is president/founder TP Golf, GolfTips Magazine Top 30 Instructor and PGA Quarter Century Member. Reach him at www.tompatri.com

The post Putting Secrets From A True Master appeared first on Golf Tips Magazine.

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